


The War of the Roses

by Imperial_Witch



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 20:07:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imperial_Witch/pseuds/Imperial_Witch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The planet is in unrest. There are monsters still roaming around, completely unmanaged and far more savage. That is not the only problem; theft, murder and crime is rampant because trade had been cut off from the east to Figaro due to failed negotiations with the Rose Wards—a junta that rose through a harsh and quick coup d'état against the Crown of Figaro and Doma.</p><p>The people are upset with the two monarchs' inability to deal with the Rose Wards, while many in the east are angered over their inability to provide essential support against the massive monster infestation they face. The Returners fear a rebellion in Figaro, perhaps even Doma, is just around the corner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> I got inspired to finally write my first (not a solo) fanfiction for this couple after reading a few of them on another fanfiction site. I had an idea swarming around in my head I wanted to play with, but I always put it off—worried people would find the idea strange to write for. However, here I am, giving it a shot. Also, to be clear, this is a post-game fiction and yes, it will have couples, but it is not "just" a couple fanfiction. I also decided Terra's birthday, October 18th, would be the best date for publication of it and my first work. So, happy birthday Terra Branford! ;)
> 
> I hope that the idea is interesting, and that people like it. If not, I'll just remove the story and try again, eh? Oh, well, anyway, here we go.
> 
> UPDATE
> 
> Title changed from "Revolution" to "The War of the Roses". :)

Chapter: Another Day  
Prologue

It was a cold October morning, chilly and misty from the storm that had pulled through the day prior. Houses' windows were closed shut, doors padded with extra cloth to keep creaks bundled and unable to bring in gusts of air and the chimney stocked high with wood and bright flames. The smell of burnt wood and stew filled the air, and toyed with the stomachs of the little rascals running about the crowded house. Boys threw things here and there, girls cried about the boys teasing them with nasty things while Katrina and Duane tried their best to settle things.

Terra was awoken by the sound of her children running through the hall and passed her door, screaming over a toy or maybe it was over a stick. She did not bother to open the door and chide the young devils, knowing they would either ignore it or Katrina would be the one chasing them. Instead, she went to the other side of her room tiredly.

The window crackled under its layer of frost when she brushed aside the curtains to see outside; the sun was tucked away behind gray clouds and thick fog. She could faintly see where the three oak trees stood by the center of town—the center of their little ruin down village—and she knew that because she could not see the light of the stone tower by the shore, that the fire had died out sometime during the night. She frowned. It would be difficult for the winter boats to arrive through the fog to deliver much needed supplies if it remained unlit for too long. She would need to light it right away, and then turned to dress as warmly as her wardrobe could afford her.

Outside her room her children swarmed around her like hungry pups, barking and grabbing at her winter cloak. They didn't seem to notice that it was Katrina and Duane who were in charge of breakfast meals. She smiled and shooed them away towards the kitchen and nearly all children disappeared instantly, shouting and pushing each other to get to the kitchen first. However, the youngest of the children—a six year old girl—was sitting on a soft, aged cushion several feet away from the fire place, chewing on a stick of bread. There was a makeshift fence of metal to keep the children away from the fire, but Terra knew that the more determined children could easily get past the barrier. Worried she marched over and picked the child up and carried her away, glad she wasn't getting a protest—especially a violent one—from the tiny rascal. She sat the girl on the sofa and wrapped her with a wool blanket before she turned for the kitchen.

Katrina was holding two boys apart from a fight, her face red with frustration and anger, whilst Duane took over the stew, stirring quickly with eyes still on his home-made barrier where their three year old daughter Ella played with a stuffed animal toy. The two boys, Cole and Otis, were only a year apart and were not blood related, but they fought like true brothers, like the twin boys sitting at the table this instant. Everything was always a competition with them, and usually the aftermath included messes that Terra and Katrina had lost many precious and fragile items.

Knowing exactly how to calm the two, Terra picked two slices of cinnamon cakes off the high counters and held one out for each boy, just out of their reach. They stopped clawing at each other immediately, unbalancing Katrina, to look at their mother with large, obedient eyes. "Will you two behave yourselves?" she hated thinking of having to discipline the two on this day, her relaxation day...or the best it could be of that, at least. They nodded their heads in unison and then she lowered the cakes. They were snatched out of her hands with lightning quick reflexes and soon shoved into the boys' mouths before they took off for their spot at the table.

Katrina puffed out an exhausted breath before she gave Terra a thankful smile and then asked if she would be joining them for breakfast. "Yes, later, but I must take care of the lighting stone first." a kid shouted a correction to the term she used but she did not pay attention. "The merchants will need to know where to take harbor safely, anyway."

She crossed her arms. "That thing went out again? I'm telling you, there are way too many cracks in it. The wind'll just blow it out again. Besides, you mean 'if' the ships will come. I think this rebellion is serious, Terra."

Terra smiled as she lit a lantern using the kitchen's stove. "I'll just have to light it each time then." she ignored the bit about the rebellion and then she left the woman and her husband alone in the kitchen with the devilish children. As soon as she was gone, Duane sighed.

"She will understand eventually, I'm sure."

Katrina wasn't so sure. "Either way, let's just hope that this whole rebellion is shallow and will blow over soon. The other continents might not be able to survive happily without this continent's help, but the same goes for us when it comes to _their_ support."

He nodded and lifted the heavy pot of stew. "After breakfast, I'll see if I can patch up the lighthouse." Katrina kissed his cheek and thanked him before she went to get the rest of the children.

Outside the warm and cozy house Terra made her way through the dense fog, holding the lantern up high in front of her, moving carefully across the ground to avoid stumbling over some forgotten toy or other debris. The shore wasn't too far away and by the blurs she could see through the fog she knew where everything was, from routine. In Mobliz the winters were long and the fog was often there, blinding them and any ship or boat that came by. Because of this, people often called the area 'Devil's Pool' because of the tragedies that happened at the sea around Mobliz or even on land where monsters killed more often then spotted by living people. It was disheartening to live in an area that people thought was the 'breeding' ground for the monsters and shortage of food. If people would just give the land a chance, help ward off the monsters, then good crops would grow and cattle could be raised.

But for now she and her children, as well as the scattered few who lived further south, would have to wait for supplies to be delivered by the willing sailors and few soldiers who decided to accompany them. Each trip Terra feared they would not return and in each trip, lesser and lesser people appeared atop deck. It was becoming painstakingly clear that soon enough Terra would not be able to feed her children via the means of the southern country. It didn't help with the start of a rebellion and the constant talk of throwing away ties to the two Crowns. People now rarely wanted to deal with those who were in support of Edgar or Cyan and his heir. Either way this all ended up, she hoped the ship would keep coming, that her children would not have to go on with empty stomachs.

She sighed and lifted her lantern higher when she saw the blur of the stone tower, her lightning stone. The tower, or rather 'the lighthouse' as her children kept correcting her, was built by her friends a year after they ended Kefka's reign and they had done it with what was lying around Mobliz, promising to build a sturdy one when they could. It was built so that people sailing by, looking for a place in the desperate leftover of the world, could see it or for the merchants. However exposed parts let the rain and wind blow out the flame whenever lit, while other parts started to crumble away. Birds and rats had made nests all throughout the riddled holes and inside, the stairs had become to lose what smoothness they had. The windows had been personally mended by her own hands with large planks of wood, but she was no carpenter and it was obvious another windy storm would bring them down. The tower would have been remade by now, as her friends promised her after they finished, but since then...

She hung the lantern up by the door inside and then with as much strength as she could muster, pulled the wooden door close from its rusted hold. It shook the tower a bit, moaning from the change of its structure and then settled, calming Terra's nerves. She let go of the doorknob, lifted the lantern off from beside the door and then made her way up the lonely, dark stairs until she was met with an open roof. As she suspected the fire was completely out, and it was obvious it had not cooked long at all last night for the wood was still nearly new. She sighed and rearranged the wood and then held the lantern's flames against the stock until the flames built up into a steady roar.

She sat the lantern down besides an old wooden bench before she sat herself down to stare into the flames. It was an enchanting feeling, staring into the flames, and it reminded her of her time with her friends during their journey, when they were apart of the rebel fraction known as the Returners. But not only that, it brought a pain in her chest. It was a time when her friends could visit freely, when there was nothing to stand between them—emotional or physical. Stray tears rolled down her icy cold cheeks, blurring her vision. She would tend to this lighthouse until it crumbled down upon her. She didn't expect Katrina and Duane to understand why it mattered so dearly to her, why every morning she crept into the cold to light it—or in the dead of summer heat—and why she stayed hidden away in the lighthouse during the morning for an hour or so all alone. It was her last connection to her friends, proof that what had happened actually happened and she was with loved ones.

She took a deep breath and wiped the tears away before she stood. Today had to be different, for her children at the very least. She took the lantern and hurried out of the tower.


	2. Wrung Out

Chapter II:  
Wrung Out  
_~One year later~_

 

It was the most recent show of anger, but thankfully it was not the worse, though it was still destructive. First it was just shouting, then it was accompanied with insults...and then the first rock was thrown. And then soon enough, the entire crowd was throwing stones. Windows were shattered, soldiers and children had been hit, chocobos had been turned into wild, frightened dangers and everything had fallen apart. And once one of the stones hit Sabin's head, the King's Guard wasted no time to run into the crowd and force them back, with or without force. Despite Edgar and Sabin's attempts to calm both the King's Guard and the crowd, it only escalated. Parents reacted to hurt children with one-sided anger and began beating on the soldiers and King's Guard until the armed forces of the soldiers and the Guards had to work together to drive the people back into the city streets and into their homes.

It took hours to settle them down, and hours still to tend to the wounded or the lost and frightened until it was dusk and everyone was either too tired or hungry to continue their negative actions. When all was settled and the King's Guard removed Edgar and Sabin from their temporary safe house—a bakery the owner kindly lent to them after the riot—and formed a protective rectangle around them, leading them up to the castle and through the night streets.

It was then, even though their sight was mostly obscured by their Guards, that they could see the damage of the riot. People's houses were caked in mud and their windows shattered, the street was littered with rocks and glass, and shopping bags had been dropped, where tomatoes, fruit and other foods laid smashed from boots and wild chocobos. Further down the street, though, it was worse; some of the houses, mostly the businesses, had been set on fire or looted. People laid on the ground with injuries or from complete shock from what happened to their homes and businesses. There were doctors around, peeling through the people and trying to tend to the ones with the worse of the injuries first.

It was if a tornado had gone through the streets, one of fire, as if the people had woken up that morning with so much hate and frustration it was impossible not to act on it. It would take days to fix what was destroyed, and days to mend the relationship of the people to the crown. Days the royal twins could have better spent helping the rest of the world for serious problems, like the infestation of monsters in the east, killing and destroying people's lives everyday.

It wasn't like the people in Figaro were starving...well, they were certainly in a better place than the Easterners. Figaro's people ate plenty; gourmet meals in comparison, even. Even the poorer of the people ate nearly as good as those whose businesses had taken on down the golden road. Most people could afford to put their children into school and provide for the family as well as getting them gifts and the like. But now they resorted to violence and barbaric actions that ill fitted people of their status.

Evidence to the attack was close by him too, Edgar saw. There was the cut on his brother's forehead. A long, nasty and bleeding gash from the top left of his hair line down to the tip the right tip of his left eye brow. Edgar could tell that it was going to leave a scar and felt rage swell in him. They had done nothing but help and try for the people of the crown and they repaid him by injuring his brother, to try and kill him? His job as king was becoming increasingly difficult and frustrating, for his peoples' patience was little to begin with and now it crumbled away like dried dirt. He could barely juggle them and their thirst for attention and instant improvement, and now he had to be worried about stepping outside of the castle, his King's Guard or when he wanted to talk to his people.

Was this how his father envisioned his country going?

Sabin laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed just a bit, a tender and encouraging smile on his face. It was all so much easier whenever his brother was around, as if with him being there made the problems split between them, as if the burdens were suddenly being carried on two sets of shoulders rather than one; it was refreshing—as much as it could be, at least.

It helped when Celes and Locke appeared, even Setzer. They would help around the kingdom, better than even the Councilor sometimes. Celes, despite having an Imperial past, sometimes even managed to calm the people down while Locke gave them hope to wait for improvement. Setzer brought them food and other goods he could manage out of the hands of the continents that refused to freely trade with Doma and Figaro. Edgar and Sabin...? For the moment they only talked, or so it would seem to the civilians.

And that only reminded him of why he and his brother had taken to directing the people that morning. Groups of strangers bearing the Rose insignia of the four year dead Empire had appeared two years ago. For now the group remained only vocal inside of Figaro but were physical outside of the Figaro country—as far as Cyan in Doma. So far they remained content in the eastern continents that refused Figaro and Doma. All for their "lack" of help. Though Edgar had his suspicions most of the refusal to help came from the Rose Wards' occupation and, he prayed to be wrong, their strong-arming. He could not believe the people were like that on their own.

It didn't help that this group had begun to take on the job The Gestahlian Empire had done before their attention fully turned to Espers and Magic—taking care of infestations of monsters and the others alike. It wasn't like Edgar or Sabin refused to help with that matter, or that they weren't currently trying. They were. But they had so little men in their ranks and those of which they did, refused to go across sea to fight for ungrateful, violent thugs who wanted to split away from the crown.

It was all so tiring.

"Edgar? Are you even listening to me?" he tugged his eldest twin—by five minutes and twenty seven seconds, Sabin's been told—by using the arm he had slung around his brother's shoulders.

Apparently his brother had been talking this entire time, and leading him in through the kitchen doors of the castle. He grumbled, half paying attention. "You could do for a nice mug of ale, the best we have. The ones with the roasted barley malts, right? And a good dish of roasted chicken and potatoes would do you wonders too."

Edgar laughed and unlatched his brother's arm from around his shoulders even as they appeared in the tavern of the castle. "Why, brother, if I didn't know any better you are describing your favorite meals. How convenient that we are at your favorite tavern, too."

Sabin lifted a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. "My favorite? Last time I checked you were digging this place just as much as me, if not more." it was a tease, supposed to be an empty one Edgar knew, but it hurt none the less. The reason for his infatuation of this tavern, the Sand Sea, was long since gone. Sabin seemed to grasp the levity of his brother's sudden depression quickly, for he wrapped his arm around him and guided him to an empty long-backed chair and threw him in it. "Ah don't get so gloomy on me so fast Edgar. Here, here, have a drink." and then Sabin looked to the counter tender.

He was a tall man with muscles so thick they looked like wires coiled around each other and a cleanly shaved head. Around his bulging forehead was a sweat-band and over his massive shoulders, a cleaning down. He looked at them with large, brown eyes and gave them a firm nod before he started to fill two mugs with Sand Special Ale, their favorite drinks...though Edgar took his darker than his brother. 'To drown away his pain', as some of the local tavern people claimed him to be doing.

The man appeared in front of them and sat the two mugs down. "This is on the house...looks like you two've been through hell today. Ain't them ungrateful people ever gonna learn?" and then he turned to serve three men at the other end of the counter. Edgar would have protested that the people were not ungrateful, that they were right to expect him to take care of them, that they were right about him but he didn't have the energy to debate politics and the like with the tavern keeper.

Sabin grinned and chugged his down, mumbling into the rim of his cup after he finished. "Don't worry too much Ed, we'll handle our problems sure enough."

Edgar sighed and took his mug, uninterestedly pressing the mug to his lips. "Aye...I suppose we will."

"For now though," he reached over the counter to grab a small barrel of his favorite ale, "we drink and eat!"

The moment he peeled his eyes open in the morning, he regretted listening to his brother and drinking so much. His head felt stuffed with cotton and his throat burned like fire, but worse of all was the headache. He didn't drink too much, he thought, but apparently by his pale skin and sickly mood, he drank just as much as Sabin or more.

With a grunt he went to his water basin and splashed luke warm water onto his face—wishing it was cold—to try and wake himself up. When it proved to be useless, he tugged his undershirt off and struggled out of his sleeping trousers until he stood naked before the basin. He took a towel and then headed into the next room to wash himself. Hopefully it proved to be a better choice than his previous decisions.

It wasn't long until his brother came barging into the room to find him and just as expected of Sabin, the giant monk ignored his brother's pleas to leave so he could wash himself in private. The man was in no mood for his twin to be wallowing, so he told him to get up and dress himself.

"And why would I cut my well deserved bath short, dear brother?" he sighed, ducking lower into the warm water.

Sabin sighed and it was then that Edgar noticed that his brother had his new cut stitched up. "Setzer is here with news; he's waiting in the throne room for you."

Edgar knew better than to think the pilot had good news, but still, a king had work even when he bathes himself. "Alright, I shall be ready in a moment...now do you mind?"

"Sure, sure. Don't dawdle Edgar, or I'll come back and dress you myself." and then he vanished through the door he left wide open. Feeling as if his brother had not been joking with his threat, he hurried out of his bath and scurried over to his stack of clean clothes. His fine dark velvet doublet displayed the coat of arms of his family sewn across the heart while the royal heraldic badge, a red rose, was fastened securely beneath it. He pressed it smooth against his chest, adjusted the pure white cuffs, rolled his family signet ring around his finger and then took a breath to prepare for the day.

The walk to the throne room was silent as soldiers stood vigilant by the windows, peering out the glass for potential revolts, while the others stood like statues against the walls with pikes in hand. Inside the castle they had little to worry about, it was one of the only places left where all the people were in full support of Edgar and Sabin, and thus was the safest place to be. Some of the inner castle civilians even volunteered for night shifts on weekends to give soldiers a break so they can rest and see their family. They were good peoples, possibly among the best.

He missed the days of simplicity of his old days, when he jumped into a grand adventure to help save the world. Sometimes he wish he had an adventure like that again, to escape this life and forget about all his and his people's problems. Even his pirate days, ones he often said were miserable, seemed better than the royal life at the moment. He had let his thoughts run for so long he did not realize he already stood before the throne room doors. He sighed, straightened up and fixed his shirt before he put on his casual smile and then walked into the room.

The Throne room was flooded with boxes and crates, and of weapons and weapon wracks. This was not how he left this room the previous morning. Worried, he glanced around as he picked his way carefully over the boxes and crates to the far end table next to the throne chairs, where Setzer and Sabin—as well as the Chancellor—stood mumbling amongst themselves. Edgar muttered a swear under his breath when he knocked a rack of swords down and created an uproar that brought his company's attention to him, almost as if irritated by the loud noise.

He offered an apologetic wave of his arm as he scrambled over the last few items and was clear to walk straight to his visitors. He smacked his hands against each other, ridding himself of imagined dirt from the walk over, and cleared his throat. "To what do we owe this early visit, Setzer?"

The pilot rolled his eyes. "Will you always talk so formally, Edgar?" he did not bother to hide his agitated tone. Edgar was sure he must have done something in the last few visits to anger his friend of luck, but he couldn't pinpoint what that could be. He would be sure to ask Sabin if he knew anything about it.

The Chancellor cleared his throat very loudly and said, "Your lordship should be properly addressed as 'King Edgar', or perhaps even 'Your Majesty'."

Setzer scoffed, "As if."

Edgar tiredly lifted his hand up to stop the Chancellor from pressing forward. "My friends should never refer to me as such, nor would I want them to. Please, Chancellor, refrain from continuing on the subject." The Chancellor grumbled, but complied quickly. "Now, where were we?"

Sabin piped in before the pilot could snap back a reply, "on the matter of Setzer's visit."

"Ah, yes," he turned his dark blue eyes to the pilot. "You are a month too early from your normal visits, and you also have turned my throne room into a storage. May I ask whatever may have caused this?"

Setzer, if he intended to answer, gave no physical sign of it as he turned to the table and scooped up a mug of ale—which Edgar wondered how he managed to get it served so early in the morning—before he sighed. "It is about the Rose Wards." Apprehension filled Edgar, but he asked what it was despite it. "They have finally taken over Albrook."

"What? An militia occupation?" Sabin babbled, wide eyed and gaping.

"If only it were that," Setzer muttered, setting his mug down after a few more gulps. "The people have welcomed them with open arms, I hear. They love them, and I'm sorry to say this, for some good damn reasons too from the way I have seen it, or did I suppose when they allowed us in. I have seen these people; they hunt these monsters down at the crack of dawn and sometimes out at midnight. They help people with their farms and even with rebuilding from the destruction Kefka caused. Besides wanting to separate away from the Crowns and wanting you replaced, Edgar, these people are actually...beneficial to the East."

Edgar could not protest the pilot's words. It was true. Sabin, however, sputtered in anger and poked Setzer tartly on his chest. "My brother is just as beneficial as the Rose Wards. If it wasn't for him, Figaro and the small refugees from Doma would not have survived through Kefka and the Empire! It isn't Figaro's fault the East refuses to compromise with the aid they _demand_!"

"Sabin, please," Edgar whispered, pulling him back, or at least he tried to. "Setzer's words are honest. Even if I am trying to help them, I am not very successful with my endeavors. I simply do not have the manpower or the resources to help the East as I do here in the West, and when they refuse what I do offer them, it only solidifies my failure even more. If the Rose Wards are effective in protecting and helping the East, I say we allow them...for the moment at least."

"What are you talking about?!" the Chancellor squealed, almost identically to that of a pig. "These people want to remove you from the crown! You and Cyan! They made an assault on Doman based camps north of Nikeah just seven months ago! You cannot let them wander about or let their injustices go unpunished any longer! I should think two years is enough!"

Setzer corked an eye brow at the Chancellor and chuckled. "Did you swallow a pig this morning, Chancellor?" the man fumed, his face turning red. "As for you Sabin, I did not mean anything negative towards you or your brother. I am simply stating facts. Besides their war-crimes against the Crown of Figaro and Doman soldiers and law, they are actually helping the poor in the East survive. Would you take that away from them while you and your brother cannot offer proper aid?" Sabin glared back at the pilot darkly, unable to come up with a retort. "I take that as a concession."

"Let us press forward on this matter, please." Edgar gestured to the chairs and when neither of his visitors or brother moved to sit, he decided to himself. With a sigh, he leaned toward the table to take an empty mug and fill it with warm ale. "Figaro or Doma cannot allow this group to continue, and we also cannot let them 'outstage' us for too much longer, or their support will spread like wildfire. I fear an uprising here in Figaro is just around the corner if we continue at this pace."

"What do you suggest then, your Majesty?" the Chancellor whispered, his eyes narrowed down at his king, watching him sniff the ale before he took a chug of it. "We have tried all that is within our ability. Short of making a public appearance in the East, which would be suicide, we cannot convince those people"—Edgar couldn't help but hear the bigotry behind the man's tone at the 'those people' part—"that you mean to help and that you are actually honest about it."

Sabin saw a spark in Edgar's eyes and quickly jumped to his side. "No! You are not going over there! They want to usurp you Ed! Not just that, some of them want to see your head on a pike! I'm not letting you go and that is final!"

Edgar smiled into the rim of his mug. "I do believe I am a grown man brother, and the king of this nation. I go and do as I please, less it is inhumane of course."

"But...but—" the Chancellor was quickly silenced.

"—but nothing, dear friend." Edgar sat his mug down and got to his feet. "I've decided. I'm heading to Nikeah and will hold a Summit with whatever leader they might have appointed. I will explain to them my plans and if they agree, then we are all in a better spot. If they do not...well then, I suppose they have me in a perfectly unsafe situation."

"No!" Sabin barked. "If this is your way of finding some excuse to see her—"

"—her?" Setzer suddenly asked, his voice full of curiosity and a tinge of anger. "Who?" though judging by the pilot's expression, he already knew the answer. Although Edgar did not care that others knew who the 'her' was and gave no sign of denial of his reasons, Sabin somehow found his brother's missing embarrassment.

"Terra." Sabin simply said, turning his eyes away from Setzer and back to his brother, leaving the pilot to glare daggers at the king. "Ed...I understand your frustration with the situation, and that you want to see her, but this...this is not wise." Edgar had busied himself at checking through the boxes in the room his friend so inconsiderately stored in his throne room. "Edgar, I'm talking to you!" his brother shouted, agitated. "Please, just listen to me this once, don't do this."

"I agree with the prince," the Chancellor muttered, worried. "This isn't like you, your majesty. Normally you are so...so well thought out. This is just madness. Surely Lady Branford does not cloud your mind so thoroughly?"

That was as far as Setzer was willing to go unvoiced on the matter. "What exactly do these two mean, Edgar? I thought you put this behind you?"

Edgar lifted a rounded shield out of the box and rotated it around under the light, so he could see his visitors via the shield's surface. He saw Setzer and wondered why it so visibly disturbed him. His curiosity was peaked. "Why, I'm sure I did put it behind me. I never said it would stay there. Besides," he put the shield down, ignoring the fact that Setzer was grinding his teeth, and turned to smile at them. "Terra is not the only reason for my planned Summit. I have not lost my mind over a woman—Chancellor, brother—and I promise you I have thought this out very well."

"In the matter of seconds?" he clearly disbelieved! "What if they have soldiers stationed when you arrive? What if they attack you?" Sabin probed, his eyes searching him for any sign that his brother had lied. "Well?"

"Let me worry about that Sabin. For now, I need my preparations taken care of. Chancellor, see to it that my arrival is well heard of. I want the Rose Wards to know about it, even Doma." and then he looked to his brutish brother. "I need you to gather a ship for me, preferably the fastest and Setzer—if you do not mind? Good!—I need you to gather some of our friends; Celes and Locke. Mog and Umaro also if you can find them. Once you have them, bring them back to Figaro as quick as you can."

If Setzer was upset about Terra still he put it behind him to help solve his friends' problems. "Sure, whatever...if that fur ball ruins my ship, you are paying for its repairs."

Knowing Mog and how the little brute would react to knowing they would be seeing Terra, Edgar was aware of the potential damage that would be done. "I wouldn't think otherwise," Edgar agreed with a laugh. "Now, I also want some of this equipment left for us. I am not so foolish as to go unarmed. We'll bring a regiment of my men too, preferably archers and pikesmen."

Sabin shook his head in disbelief, grinding his teeth over his brother's obvious moment of stupidity. "I still think this is a bad idea."

"When have I ever thought of a bad idea?" he asked his brother with a charming smile as he followed the Chancellor over the crates and boxes and out of the room. Sabin turned to glare at Setzer, though it wasn't against him.

"How about now, Ed?" he whispered, mostly to the pilot, and the man chuckled in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehhh. As for co-authors, they want to remain incognito. Mostly because they said what they do isn't really anything to tie them to such a position...getting them to change their mind is difficult. lol However, I am allowed to say they helped with construction of the story and character interactions. Seeing as I'm a returning player but a brand new super-fan of the game, I wanted to consult some friends who were better, um, educated than me. Though it all really comes down to opinion, I still hope this fanfiction pleases readers, or at least a few of them.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and feel free to leave a review if you want. Thanks for reading!
> 
>    
> P.S  
> I'll be uploading another story, a collaboration, shortly. I am also writing a "not-so-novel noverlization" of the game too. It won't be a copy-paste script "novel"...I guess you could say "loose novelization"? Oh, and for the collaboration story: it'll be a combo of games, but I'm hope my friends and I can pull it off effectively. Um...that's all! lol


	3. Decisive

Chapter III:  
Decisive

Two fortnights after his summit proposal Edgar had busied himself with fixing a few broken grandfather clocks in his tinker room downstairs, straight underneath his room and right across the engine room. It was colder down below the castle grounds, cold and dark, and eerily silent with the only sounds coming from the drips of water in through cracks, the sound of rats in the walls and the sound of tools and parts clinking against each other. It all was supposed to be his distraction from his daily life as the king, a life he took only to protect his brother, a life he sometimes regretted and yet appreciated the way it was. A life he knew was complicated. The tinkering room proved to be less helpful at distracting him as of late, ever since they defeated Kefka, since one of his biggest purposes had left him—fighting the tyranny of the Empire. Now it only reminded him of the constant loneliness he endured and that he took to hiding like some scared babe just to try and escape it.

But it was clear the distractions would not work on him any longer. He needed something else. The more he tinkered with the broken clocks the more he realized he was down in his work room, away from the kingdom and his problems—hiding and being as unhelpful as his people claimed him to be. Now all he felt was exhaustion.

He sighed deeply, sat aside his screwdriver and work glasses, and pushed the broken clock further across the desk before he pushed himself up on his feet. Perhaps it was the perfect time to stretch his legs and check out what was happening above, and to make sure his brother and Chancellor were not sending the kingdom further into its own grave through good intentions gone wrong. He stretched his legs, grabbed his cape off the back of his chair, clipped it and was on his way up the stairs.

Edgar was greeted almost immediately by the sound of soldiers running to and from their stations, of men training in the courtyard behind his tower and the sound of the harsh wind outside, blowing piles and piles of sand against the castle every few seconds. He immediately missed the silence of his tinkering room. Soon the smell of oil and grease filled his nostrils as he pushed the door to the Center Hall open, telling him the Enginemen were oiling parts and refilling containers to his right. He would see them later if he had the chance, to make sure his engine was working as it should, and then made his way north toward the throne room.

Inside the throne room he was relieved to find his brother digging away through boxes of letters and to his right, Locke Cole—whose muddied, worn boots sat snugly upon the surface of Edgar's fine oak table—and Celes Chere, with the little furball Mog by her feet. Locke was reading over a letter written in red ink while Celes chatted away with Sabin over something Edgar couldn't quite hear. Mog was busy sharpening his little dagger with a wetstone, probably thinking a quick jab with it would end any and all problems.

"Well, I suppose I should be grateful all the mess is tidied away," Edgar said suddenly, announcing his entry into the throne room. "I can't say the same about brigands resting their feet on my fine tables though." he pointedly glared at Locke, who gave him a sheepish smile before he tucked his legs back under the table. "And I certainly expected a much later response, my dear friends."

"Well, you know us Ed," Locke said brightly. "We live to damn your existence."

"Rubbish, Cole, we certainly know the audience of such a beautiful woman is always welcomed." he replied, coming to stand before Celes. He took her hand and kissed the knuckles gently, ignoring her annoyed roll of her eyes before she tugged her hand free. "Ouch, as cold as ever."

Her eyes glistened. "That is as much warmth as I'm willing to give you, Edgar; take it or leave it."

A charming smile displayed upon his handsome features. "I'll take it that I am a step closer."

Locke sparked. "Ha ha ha, very funny Edgar."

Sabin looked up from what he was reading. "Edgar, come here a second and read this."

"In a moment, my dear brother, might I enjoy the company of my friends and a quick drink before we get to business?" he asked through a wistful sigh even as he sat across from Celes. Sabin jabbed the letter toward his direction.

"It cannot wait. You can play the flirt with Celes later. Now read it! Locke, hand me over that one you have there...yes, that one, thanks!" he swiped the letter from the thief even as Edgar picked up the 'dire' letter from the table.

"A letter from Tzen?" Edgar asked aloud, reading the address with extreme disbelief. "How was this managed? I thought trade routes and birds were currently banned in the east? Not even our contacts can send out word from within Tzen."

"That one is five months old," Sabin said, never taking his eyes off his current letter. "Keep reading, you'll find the good parts." Sabin sighed after he apparently finished reading his letter. He sat it down and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "Each letter I feel like I cannot possibly feel worse for the people of the east...and I'm shown to be wrong by the next that I read."

Locke looked away from his new stack of civilian letters to peer at the prince. "I told you to just ignore the letters about their monster problems, Sabin."

Suddenly shooting up to his feet, Edgar gave a sharp gasp, the letter was being smashed in his hands. "How dare they do this!"

Sabin and the others looked up, but the prince spoke first. "Interesting, isn't it?"

" _Interesting_? It is down right _ghastly_. They are deporting those who support us! Out of their own homeland! How could they be so cruel? I thought they were better than this." Edgar crumpled the paper and leaned his head into his hand, his mind suddenly lit on fire with a fresh headache. Things were only getting worse. Nothing he did, nothing he said and promised, was changing anything. The people were seeing him as a threat to their lives and prosperity with each and every passing day.

He was going to lose them, and lose his only connection to his family, to his father—to the only purpose he had in this little world. And now the thought of families being punished for supporting him—being sent off their homes and lands with nothing to strange land—filled with him grief and rage. It tightened his resolve. "No person who intended to bring happiness and prosperity would do this to another. Their intentions are obvious...they must be stopped. I will not have all that my father and forefathers built to be squandered by the likes of a group of power hungry villains."

"Apparently the Easterners refuse to see their new friends as anything but that, Ed," Locke said, leaning back to rest his boots on the table again. "Which means that little plan of yours—yea, Sabin told us—is not going to work. These Rose Ward fellows are obviously nothing more than swine."

"What do you expect me to do Cole? War, violence...it cannot be our _only_ answer."

"Look Edgar," Celes whispered, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes the best decision is the hardest one. Sometimes to protect what we love a choice like this is the only choice to make. Either that, or you will lose everything." Was the kingdom even what the world needed anymore? Was one single family, one man, ruling over the world such a good idea anymore? Did the Empire prove that, or did they prove a king was needed, a righteous and loving king? "Edgar, you need to make a decision. You cannot afford to wait any longer."

Was the act of war truly his only choice? A gentle sigh left him and he nodded. "You are right Celes," he whispered. "I want to give them a chance though. I want them to understand that I do not want this as much as they don't."

Mog flew up onto an empty seat and reached for one of the apples. "Wouldn't it be easier to just fly in and ambush them instead of playing politics with them?"

"In this day and age we should be expected to act better than that," he looked over at the little creature. "If I reacted to them with violence their cause would only become one that flatters the ear. If I respond in kind and attempt to negotiate this peacefully with them, I can only gain the hearts of those who are stuck in the middle of a decision. I also detest getting blood on my hands, especially when it could be so easily avoided."

"Except you are risking your kingdom and the safety of others by acting so..." Mog chewed a piece of his apple as he thought for the most accurate word. "...so cowardly."

"I disagree," Edgar said, ignoring the choice of words. His brother, despite objecting to the summit, agreed.

"If we can resolve this without violence, think of all the lives that can be spared." the monk's lips pulled into a small smile.

Celes shook her head. "You are feeling in a situation you need to be thinking in. Let me propose the likelihood of the restoration of an Empire built by the hands of these Rose Wards. At first they can easily say their intentions are pure, to live beyond the mistakes of those who came before them, but eventually descend into the madness of the Empire we defeated. Now is this future, one where they exterminated a race of beings for power, worth avoiding the path of hardship even though it is the shortest method available and the lest costly?"

"And you are thinking too much like a soldier," Sabin snapped. "You are too ready to spill blood."

Locke quickly leaned forward. "That is not at all what she meant!"

That was enough for Celes to snap to her feet in fury. "I am just not so reluctant to do what is needed. I do not like to take lives as much as you don't but I live in reality, Sabin, where men cannot be trusted to come to the right decision on their own."

"Enough!" Edgar howled, slamming his hands onto the table to silence them. The two were still glaring at each other, so pointedly that Mog scooted a few inches away from Celes. "We barely have the time to argue with our enemies, and you two think now is the perfect time to argue with each other?"

Sabin scoffed and looked away from Celes' icy stare. "I hope you aren't so desperate you will listen to her, brother." Celes' hands tightened at her sides. It was clear she was fighting to hold back her anger, or perhaps a response she would regret later. Locke's brown eyes were trying to burn holes into Sabin's skull. "War is never the answer."

Edgar took the silence to direct his brother. "I will consider her as closely as I would to you, Sabin. She is a part of my council, and the general of my army, and for such titles she _deserves_ respect." he rubbed a hand over his eyes, drained of the will to continue the discussion any longer. Something had happened between his brother and Celes that the two clearly haven't been able to get pass. He supposed Locke might hold the answer, considering Celes confided in him, but he knew he would never get the answer from him. Whatever had happened though came three years ago, around the same time that...the thought dropped like bricks in his mind and he cleared his throat. "Let us discuss the summit please...as friends."

Celes never removed her eyes from the prince as she reseated herself. Sabin made it obvious that he was keeping his eyes off of her as he said, "What is there to discuss? You will go with what she says regardless of what I have to say."

"That, my dear brother, is not true. I would like to iron out the kinks in my plan. I cannot do that on my own. Four brains—"

"Ahem!" Mog interrupted.

"—five brains are far more helpful than just one. Now, the first thing we should discuss until Setzer returns from wherever he has run off to is who shall be accompanying me to the summit."

"I'm not going?" Sabin asked, facing him with wide eyes.

"The throne needs an heir in case something dire should happen to me," Edgar explained.

"You will keep it plenty warm," Locke muttered and Sabin turned to venomously attack him but Edgar stopped them with another slap on the table. "I think it is clear who should be going with you Ed, and that's Celes. She is your general and on your Council board. She fits."

"I concur," she muttered, flipping her hair as she readjusted her position on her chair. "If they accept our summit as a legitimate cause on our end, I can assist with diplomatic discussions. However, should they decide they would like to mount your head on a wall, at least we can put up a fight before we are whisked away to our deaths."

Edgar rubbed at his throat dramatically. "I will bring a regiment under Colonel Anders as well, and two warships from Davon's command. Should that suffice?"

Celes thought for a minute before she nodded. "It should, unless they bring their whole army upon us from Tzen."

"Then it is settled. What else is there left to discuss?" he asked, thoughtfully.

Mog lifted his dagger in the air, a chuck of apple stuck to the blade. "For one...why am I needed to go with you?"

Edgar smiled as he cupped his hands. "The answer lies within the details of the actual summit, my little friend. Some of these letters," he gestured to the collection about them. "Indicate that the Rose Wards have established three major military bases across the eastern shores of the continent. Can you guess where _one_ of those three now lie?"

The moogle's eyes sparkled in mischief. "Tzen!"

" _Exactly_. While Celes and I are preoccupied at the summit, you shall sneak your way into their base and figure out how well armed they have become. I will need details on artillery and siege equipment, for example, and you must remember it as exact as you can, Mog. This part is very vital."

"Isn't that something I should be going for to do?" Locke asked. "No offense to you Mog or anything, but you aren't exactly discreet."

"And you are, loudmouthed thief?"

"Enough of that," Edgar laughed. "Locke normally your talents would land you a position like this but I need you elsewhere."

"Where and for what? I better not be staying here to guard your treasure and bumbling brother from harm."

"No, dear Locke, you shall be very far from Figaro, I'm afraid," Edgar said. "You will be dropped off outside the reaches of Nikeah earlier than we arrive, where you will make your way south to Dömitz. It is one of the three bases I mentioned earlier, just north-west of the tower the fanatics used."

"And why am I being thrown to Dömitz exactly?" his brows furrowed. "Shouldn't I be going to Tzen with Mog, to regroup with the rest of you?"

"No," Edgar said, hesitating. "and for good reason. Your particular skill set is just perfect for infiltrating Dömitz. By the time that you arrive at the city's gate, word will have reached our contact there—"

"—wait, wait, you really have contacts _within_ their base?" Locke cut in, surprised.

Edgar laughed and gestured to the letters once more. "Where do you think I got the information of their bases and how do you think we are able to get the letters that we do? Now will you let me finish?"

"Why do I not like the sound of this?" Celes looked at the king, worried. "What are you having him do?"

"As I was saying...once word arrives and our contact receives it, he will usher Locke in under a guise. I'm afraid the mission will require our dear Locke to remain for some time so that we may secure vital information concerning their trade routes, supply caches, potential allies and of course, hopefully, the whereabouts of their leader...whomever that might be."

"That is suicide!" Locke exclaimed. "You don't think our faces will be known by these people?"

"No, I do not," Edgar answered shortly before looking at his brother. "Do you still have the letter from Albrook?" Sabin dug through a shorter pile to his right for the letter. "Thank you, thank you," he accepted the letter from his brother. "This is the last report we have from our contacts in Albrook, from three months ago. They state the Rose Wards only know of Celes, as she was such a high ranking official in the Empire. That includes me and my brother. "

"You can't rightfully expect him to take that risk though," Sabin muttered. "And I am still not comfortable with you heading out without me."

"I ask a lot of you all, this I know," Edgar sat the letter down. "but mark me...I will know success in my endeavors. I trust my contacts, and I would not unnecessarily put any of you in danger. Believe me when I tell you I have thought this through, since the day I set Setzer out to retrieve you all."

"I would not call a few months considerable time to calculate a plan," Mog cut in. "but I will do whatever you need of me. The Rose Wards smell like the early workings of another Empire and I won't stand for it."

"Well..." Locke muttered tiredly. "I can't let the _moogle_ out stage me, can I?"

Celes took Locke by the arm. "Are you sure of this?"

He nodded. "I've done just as risky business before. It led me to you, who knows what this will lead me to?" she accepted his answer with a small nod. "When are we to set out, Ed?"

"As soon as the Rose Wars accept my request for a summit, and I have no reason to suspect that they won't. It will be too appealing."

"How long until your contact receives word that the plan is in motion?" Locke asked.

Sabin answered with, "He uses the military rookery with free access. He will read every letter before anyone else, such is the requirement of the master of birds, and he will be the one to write whatever they need. We send back a bird as if it is theirs, he will read it and send it back with an answer. The good news is that the eastern birds are faster than the ones we have in our rookery, but they cannot carry much, so our information must be condensed. As for when...I suspect we should know by the end of the month."

"So you have already sent out the letter?"

"Yes," Sabin answered Celes, though his tone was stiff with agitation. "Two fortnights ago, after another failure of trying to convince my idiot brother of a course of different action."

Edgar feigned hurt with an exaggerated grimace. "Locke, you will be staying within the base for some time, so if I were you, thinking about of what you may need ahead of time may be a good idea. Good. I need you to build up trust, don't forget this part. If we can get you close to the man that pulls the strings we could easily thwart their uprising."

"...then that leaves us on the matter of Setzer?" Celes asked.

"Aye...I suspect it will be harder to put him to work _without_ his airship, but I dare not put him over eastern skies without knowing what our enemies are capable of." Edgar thought for a moment. "For now, if we need him, we will signal him with keg flares. He would have to practice quick landings though...but I suspect that will require not only some time to perfect, but maintenance on the actual airship to be able to perform."

"What are you thinking, brother?"

Edgar looked up at the ceiling, annoyed by the vague idea brewing in his head. It was as if there was a secret in his head he had forgotten long ago but now remembered. "I cannot yet say...but I shall think on it tonight and hear what Setzer has to say about our need of him. Perhaps he will succeed without any modifications upon his aircraft." he sounded unsure about that but did not press it.

"Speaking of which," Celes spoke up. "I was thinking on what Setzer could bring to this kingdom in the long run...it is a bit similar to what the Empire had."

"Oh, surprise," Sabin muttered under his breath.

She continued on as if he hadn't said anything. "You could benefit from an Air Force. Instead of the small aircrafts the Empire utilized, we could have a _fleet_ of airships."

"That would take too much time and gil, neither of which the crown can afford to spare," Sabin answered.

"It is interesting, regardless," Edgar acknowledged. "Full integration could still benefit us. If we are too afraid to spend money to win this war it will be over before we know it." he very much like the idea of it. Aerial support atop ground support could leave them unmatched. Now he just had to think on the finger details of the summit ahead, and what he would be saying. The general outline would be a peace talk, of course, but the words would need to be carefully crafted and delivered—and that would require rehearsal and scripts. All of which would require most of his time. "I shall discuss this with Setzer when he arrives. For now, I think I have laid out the basics?" their silence was answer enough. "Good, now please do not wander too far from the castle; I may need you quicker than we could find you. I will get to the summit rehearsal immediately. Sabin, would you mind helping the Chancellor with today's schedule for the townsfolk?"

"Certainly not," he said, standing. "If I must be your sit in I might as well practice as much as you do." he clamped his brother on the shoulder before heading out of the throne room. Mog jumped to the floor with another apple gorged on his dagger before he stopped Edgar.

"I forgot to ask but...what are we going to do about Gau and Cyan? Doma is currently surrounded, after all, and are in dire need of support."

"I will see to it that Doma makes it into the summit's discussion but for now all I can do is have Setzer drop supplies within castle walls and hope that he doesn't meet any resistance from the Rose Wards."

"That should be more than enough for right now," the moogle said with a nod. "Alright, if you need me, I'll be in the cellar with Umaro." he hurried out in the gentle rustle of his wings and the patter of his feet on stone.

"As for me," Celes got up smoothly. "I will be writing some letters for Thamasa. Perhaps one of them will make it through. Locke, whenever you are finished here do not forget we had plans for dinner." the look in her eyes told him to behave and obey, so he chuckled and squeezed her hand before he let her go.

As soon as the door closed, Locke sighed heavily. "Your brother is getting a might short with Celes lately."

Edgar was still watching the door, as if unbelieving they had gone so quickly. "I have noticed."

"I won't stand by as he talks to her like that..."

"Leave him," Edgar said tiredly as he turned to face his friend. "It isn't Celes he is angry with, not truly, you know this. He still does not believe this plan to be worth this effort."

"Somehow," Locke rose. "I doubt that's the only reason. He has been snappy towards her since..." the words stuck in his mouth like glue and then he swallowed, as if it were truly impossible to say. "...since your fight. I thought he put it behind him as Celes has, but I guess I was wrong. He is lucky I haven't reacted as I wanted to."

"Let me handle my brother, Locke," Edgar warned. "Please advise your lady to ignore him. It is all that I can do for now."

"Yea, sure," he growled. "You better deal with it soon then, or I will." he stomped by him and out of the throne room. With the air settled in silence, Edgar dropped his weight into the back of the chair and looked up at the stone roof, lost in thought.

The silence he wanted the moment he left his tinker room found him again, but now that he had it, it only made him anxious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been years in the waiting...life got a little complicated and I wanted to work on my novel in the spare time I managed to find for myself, but alas! I have managed a new chapter! I have combed through it several times for errors and whatnot, but please be patient with me as there may be more I haven't noticed yet. I will do another sweep through it all week.
> 
> As always thought...thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you liked it or have something to say, please consider leaving a review or pming me or whatnot. I would certainly enjoy reading any of such, especially if you have some points of improvement to share. :)


	4. Haul Away

Chapter IV:  
Haul Away

The morning's breeze came with news. Off the southern shores of eastern continent, just south of Mobliz, sailed a single ship. A merchant ship, to be precise. Unheard of in the last few months, at least around the eastern shores. Locals who happened by Mobliz said they heard it set sail from Albrook without consent of the occupying militia, while others said it came from Thamasa—the one of few faces and the strongest of resistance against the Rose Wards in the east.

It was a nice change from the whispers of rebellion against the crown and certainly welcomed by loyalists or any soul wishing for an end to the embargo inflicted upon them, even if it would be some time before they saw it (if it were even true). For some though, life was usually trickier and harder, such as those stationed in the Highlands south-west of Mobliz, where the Rose Wards had situated yet _another_ strong hold. Some that suffered was the little village of Marzig—knitted along the fine river of Saar—which had been taken over entirely for its fine location on the southern peninsula. Another was the city of Orlamün, a port along the isthmus of Mobliz and Tzen, where the Rose Wards annexed the harbor and all the vessels docked for military purposes.

The last, of course, was the peaceful little village of Mobliz. The archipelago north of the village provided a great place for their base of operations for their northern agenda. While they were stationed at the islands, they demanded more and more of the local villages, leaving barely anything for them to survive on. The residents of Mobliz had seen the occupation of the east first hand, and there was no room for recovery while they existed.

The unofficial mayor of Mobliz, elected by the majority of votes comprised of biased children, had acted as the mediator for the village when it came to the Rose Wards. Many new faces had shown up and demanded things, but they were always dressed the same and proclaimed ideals almost identical to the Empire, except they seemed far less extreme in certain areas. There was still the totalitarianism though, and the Rose Wards were sure to enforce it. They started with the foundation of education and then media, forcing their words to be printed and sold and flown by bird to every town or city, until fliers began to be handed out to smaller villages telling them what is right and what is wrong—and what to think.

The day Mobliz received their first flier was a day of fear for the little mayor—the adoptive mother to the orphans that had survived the reconstruction of the world following Kefka's attack—for her children could not quite understand the risks of breaking them while the older ones dared to break it out of defiance and ignorance. It was tiring and worst of all terrifying, but as the weeks went on into the months, it became the norm. She no longer had to closely watch her children and correct them—sometimes having to be verbally harsh in front of Rose Ward policemen. They all grew complaisant with their new life and those in charge, and content with the meager food they managed to grow and keep for themselves.

Katrina and Duane believed the rebellion would tire itself out still, even though they have been saying it since it started two years ago, but Terra knew by the hundreds of soldiers that she had seen willingly joining the fray that it was far from over. It was as if another Empire was in the process of creation and not even more than a few years from the last Empire's destruction.

"Like all before them they'll fall," Duane said to her and Katrina while they prepared to break fast with the children. "If not through their own faults, because the Crown will not allow them to exist for much longer."

Katrina bobbed her head in acknowledgement of what he had said, though it wasn't particularly due to agreeing. "If we're lucky," she added. She was preparing the fresh biscuits while Terra stirred the gravy and sausages together.

Duane was carrying their daughter in the home-made carrier across his back and a tray already cooked biscuits towards the table, carefully maneuvering around the discarded toys thrown across the kitchen floor. "These kids..." he grumbled, stepping over a wooden train. "How many times must they be told? I'm beginning to think we need to start punishing them more."

Terra looked up from her pot. "They are just children, Duane."

"Some of them are nearly teenagers, Terra," he said, setting the tray down. "And sooner rather than later they will be young adults and then adults. They should learn to pick up after themselves, at least." and then he howled for some of them by name. Two boys and a girl rushed in and as typical of Reinhard and Ecbert they were covered in dirt and mud. "Pick up these toys and then for the love of God go get cleaned up!"

They giggled before going about their chores. Terra smiled and went back to tending the gravy, only to stop suddenly. There was a distant noise she swore she was... "Katrina, Duane...do you hear that?" they paused to listen together, waiting and hearing nothing. Duane opened his mouth to say 'no' when at last he heard it. At once they came to the conclusion of what it was and said, all at once, "Warship!"

They scattered immediately to get the children. Duane went to the back yard, Katrina took the main house and Terra rushed out into the front yard. The horns of the ship blew again and again and with each she felt a piece of her heart die with the uncertainty of her children's location. The morning fog made visibility difficult but she found two, Otis and Cole—thankfully always together!—and took them by the hands. They shouted in surprise and protest to the handling but as soon as the ship's blow horn resounded ever closer they started to cry.

Duane was standing at the doorway, waving for her to hurry in. She could barely hear him over the continuous warning cry of the battleship. One last cry rang out, for a long moment, before the sound stopped entirely and she was through the doorway with her precious cargo. Duane took Otis, the larger one, in his arms and charged into the house. Terra took Cole—unable to carry him—and hurried behind Duane, sweat beading across her forehead.

The stairs into the basement was congested for only a second as the kids hurried down into safety and then they were all in the dark, the sounds within a collection of crying and crooning. Terra was fumbling about for the candles, hands trembling, until her fingers brushed over the waxy figures protruding out of the walls. "Duane, do you have any matches?" she asked over the crying of little six year old Cara and four year old Ella.

"I do, I do," he hurried over and pressed them into her hands, thankfully without dropping any. Terra lit one, then two and then three, until the left side of the wall was entirely lit. Katrina was soothing the fears of the twins, Eloise and Edsel, after finally calming the youngest two down. Terra ushered everyone against the wall, so that they could preserve their candles. "Is everyone here?"

Terra counted the faces until she was sure there was ten and then said, through a breath of relief, "Yes...yes everyone is here and safe." as if on cue the ground shook tremendously; the first cannon hit. And then the next and the next, until Terra was sure their homes would be ruined. Cara trembled in her arms, crying so hoarsely the poor girl sounded ready to break her voice. She rocked her close to her bosom, soothing her with gentle words and songs, until she stilled in quiet fear.

Duane was pacing, swearing and fuming. "The bastards!" Katrina covered her daughter's ears and chided him for his language before the kids. "Rose Ward soldiers, Thamasan navy, or Doman knights—what's the difference? They don't care for who is in the crossfire!"

"Duane, please," Terra said, clutching Cara closer to her when the child looked at him with round eyes of terror. He grumbled before taking a seat besides the children, defeated. They listened to the sound of cannons smashing into the ground for nearly an hour before it finally stopped and the horns sounded off in victory—though who had won was uncertain. He stood then, intending to check if it was safe and, of course, if their homes still stood, but Terra stopped him.

"No, I will go," she passed Cara over to Katrina.

"I should go. I am the—"

"During war being a man or woman matters about as much as whether they are children and we are adults," she said quietly. "I will go." he bowed his head in acknowledgement and stepped out of the way for her to go. One of the boys cried for her to stay but she pressed one.

Outside the basement she was relieved to find that their house still stood intact. The smell of something burning made her hurry to the kitchen; the gravy was burning and had filled the room with smoke. She threw the windows open and took the gravy off the stove, only to remember that the biscuits remained cooking. When she opened the oven, a cloud of black smoke puffed out into her face, choking her. She wafted it towards the windows and then took hesitant steps out the front door to assess the damage.

The coastline running only twenty feet away from their home was littered with cannon balls. Parts of the cliff walls had fallen into the ocean, and the houses that had been too close to the cliff line had fallen into the depths or shallows. The ship that had done the damage, a Thamasan warship, was sailing towards the islands, towards three Rose Ward battleships—who were still firing at the approaching ship. She was thankful that the projectiles were landing harmlessly into the ocean.

 _They must have thought this village was occupied by Rose Ward soldiers only to see the islands instead_ , she thought, watching as the Thamasan ship fired upon the enemy without hesitation. The three ships blared a warning to those stationed on the islands and Terra rushed back to the basement.

Duane was the first to ask about the damage. She shook her head and he understood. "Thamasa engaged them at the islands," she said quietly. "We can't leave until the battle is over."

Katrina gasped. "That could take hours! Days even!"

"We can't stay here," Duane said. "If it is known the Rose Wards have a foothold here then this is only the beginning of attempts to—"

"I know," Terra said. "Where would we even go?"

"I hear Albrook is accepting refugees."

"Where did you hear that, Duane?" Katrina asked, still cradling her daughter and Cara.

He shrugged his shoulders in a way that clearly meant he didn't want to say because he knew how it'd sound, but he said, "...merchants."

"We can't abandon our only home on the words of a merchant," his wife said sharply. "Terra?" their eyes turned to her and she faltered.

What could she say or do? She knew just as little as they did. If she took out into the open without a definite place to go, to stay, it would mean the death of her children. And eventually war would find wherever they went, so was it worth abandoning their little village? Looking at the faces of her children she knew she could not wait any longer. Duane was right. They needed to leave. At least in the open of the land the only thing they had to fend off were monsters, most of which were so small that fire could keep them away. It beat the intellect of man and his cruelty.

"We will leave in the morning. Duane and I will gather our supplies tonight. Katrina, could you watch the kids?"

"Of course Terra," she said, grief closely knitted into her tone. She did not want to leave Mobliz anymore than Terra did. It was their home. With the decision made, the two went upstairs to pack as much food as they could possibly carry. Duane went outside, after a moment of arguing, to collect a few barrels they normally stored seed in. They put everything inside and sat them aside to get some blankets and clothing, and some medical supplies (granted it was small) before trying to tackle the problem of water.

"We could seal the kegs from the storehouse at the western beach," he suggested, watching as Terra paced nervously about the kitchen. "Terra, everything will be alright, really. We all survived Kefka, why should this cause us any trouble?"

She looked at him, thinking. Sometimes she wondered if that's what she sounded like during her journey with her friends, so optimistic after Zozo. No, she supposed it was naivety for believing in things like the Empire redeeming itself or seeking out peace with the Espers. Oh what a fool she had been... she didn't have the heart to admit the bleakness of their odds or to crush his optimism though, so she conceded with a quiet nod.

"I'll get the kegs and test them out. Let's just hope our carriage wasn't damaged." he went outside to the small storage building several feet away. Terra went to folding the clothing, not out of need, but out of habit that brought her some sense of security and normalcy. Several minutes later, Duane had the kegs in the kitchen and they went to work resealing any cracks or holes in the head or chime with little pegs and hammers. It took some time but eventually they finished, filled them, tested them and then sat them aside once they were pleased with the fixes.

"If we head north, to Nikeah, we'll need more water for the deserts," he said, tapping his fingers against the head of the last keg they filled. "So I say we go south. There are plenty of chances to refill our water cache too."

Terra considered it for a moment. She would rather avoid Nikeah anyway, since it was occupied almost entirely by soldiers of the Rose Wards. Besides, she wouldn't be able to find a place, work or a ship to carry her to Figaro for her children's safety. Albrook wasn't as heavily occupied, and even if they couldn't locate a ship daring to leave, there would be more opportunities for work, even if it meant scrubbing floors or tending a pub. Duane would need to find a job, which likely meant a hard life at sea. Yes. It seemed Albrook was their only choice.

"I agree. We'll head to Albrook." and hope for the best. "Did you check on the carriage?"

"Yes, it is capable of travel. I'll bring two extra wheels from the beach just in case."

"Bring them all. We cannot afford to be unprepared." she said. "I will pick what's left of the field and add it to our supply. Would you check on Katrina and the children, please?" he glanced to the door and then to her quickly before giving up and nodding. Terra collected her basket and went to her garden behind the house. It was small, pathetic in comparison to what it was before the rebellion, but adding to her meager supply of food for the travel was better than nothing.

She filled it with sparse potatoes, carrots, beets and lettuce before she found that the rest was not meant for picking yet. It felt a shame to leave them. _I suppose the animals will make use of them_ , she concluded, turning to head back to the house. As she neared the door, she glanced behind her towards the islands and saw the Thamasan warship smashed to pieces, smoking and sinking.

Another victory for the Rose Wards.

She sighed and went to store the food, in hopes it would keep her mind off of sudden thoughts of Relm and worry for her safety. With the last of the food safely stored away, went downstairs to determine who would be first watch. Duane insisted strongly that he take the first watch and Terra, finding little reason to resist, gave in. They spent the grueling hours in the dark, conserving the candles until it grew darker, just waiting. The children played toyless games or whispered stories to keep themselves distracted until, as the day grew old, their hunger drove them to complain.

That was right. They never got to break their fast. Duane volunteered to get them something and came back with a basket of slightly stale bread and a tray of cheese. The children fought over each other to get the food, knocking younger ones into the rocky ground because they didn't want the heel of the bread. Little Cara hit her elbow and started to cry. Terra stood.

"Enough! Calm down all of you! Now!" the children immediately stopped and quieted. "The younger children go first, and then the rest of you." Duane laughed at her ability to calm them down so easily and started to deal out the food equally. Little Cara was first up, then Reinhard, Ecbert, Frida, Cole and Otis, Eloise and Edsel, Johann, and then finally the eldest of fourteen, Wilhelm. Katrina fed her daughter Ella a few pieces of strawberries and meat she mashed up. The four year old girl made a mess of it, of course, and giggled at her mother's attempt to get her to settle down and cleaned.

Finally, as the children set down for bed—with Cara and Ella together as they were close friends—Terra took watch. Duane checked the children before before lying down next to his wife. Terra seated herself at the top of the stairs, leaning against the frame of the doorway. She listened to the night's noises until the sun shone through the curtains. She felt the weight of her exhaustion immediately but she had much to do before she could think of sleep. She woke them all up and broke fast with them. It was a quick meal and she promised the youngsters that they would eat on the road when they started to complain. It was enough to deter them and give them reason to help with preparing the carriage.

They couldn't lift much, but they made sure to help with the smaller objects, like the crates of clothing and blankets. Duane had run off for the extra wheels and a tool box, having remembered he left them down at the beach where he was repairing a shore house, leaving Katrina and Terra to tend to the rowdy kids. Wilhelm complained about leaving something behind and ran off despite them shouting for him to come back.

"He's getting to that age," Katrina said through a hush voice of grief and pride.

Terra watched the young boy disappear into the house before she shook her head. It seemed like yesterday she was celebrating his tenth name day, only a few weeks after washing ashore their little village (in which the concept of a name day seemed odd to her). The time flew by faster than she felt comfortable with. Before long Wilhelm and Johann would want to leave to start their own lives, perhaps find a family of their own, and then the rest of her children would disappear one by one. Would Katrina and Duane even stay at that point when all that was left for them was gone? She hoped that they would even though it was selfish of her.

She didn't feel like discussing it though and looked away, catching sight of the unlit lighthouse in the distance. A wave of guilt and sadness washed over her. Would her friends understand her need to leave? She supposed they would have to return first to know, and that would require the end of the Rose Words. She sighed, unaware that her expression had shifted to show her distress. Katrina reached out to take her hand. "We will come back soon, Terra, don't worry."

"Mama! Look!"

Terra turned to the sound of Frida's voice. She looked towards the same direction the nine year old girl was watching and froze with terror. An armored line of chocobos leading several carriages was marching straight for the village. Katrina gasped with horror. "Terra, if they know we are trying to leave..."

"I know," Terra said, trembling for she was unsure of what to do. There was no way of hiding the children. It was clear the soldiers had seen them and attempting to hide them would only make them suspicious. Perhaps she could play it off... "Let me talk to them. Children," she said, and they looked at her, terrified. "Do not speak. Do you understand? You will let me handle this, but if they ask you what we were doing, we were going to to Orlamün for supplies and I told you all nothing more than that, okay?" they all nodded. "Good."

Katrina reached down to hug her daughter close to her bosom as the soldiers finally approached. They circled them quickly, their fine armor shining handsomely under the morning sun. A single chocobo broke through the line, ridden by one of the many faces she had grown to know through the continuous demands for supplies.

The man took off his barbute, revealing a long, angular face and olive green eyes. He stared at them for a second before throwing his feet over the side of his golden bird and landing on the hard ground. The other soldiers rustled about their birds noiselessly, watching, prepared. Terra took a quick breath, running through all of the ways she could lie that could be believed. She just prayed Duane or Wilhelm would see and stay put.

The man stood before her, glanced about the faces of the children and Katrina, then the carriage, before placing them back on Terra. "We wished to assess the damage the Thamasan warship might have brought upon you and yours, m'lady." he explained. "I hope all is well?"

She calmed her heart and said, "Much of the land was damaged, but we are fine. I thank you for worrying though, ser Berowalt."

"Hmm," he said, walking over to the carriage. He touched the wheel and then brushed a finger against his lips in thought. He did not face her as he talked, nor did he turn to look at the trembling children that just about gave away their intentions. "And what were you planning to do _before_ our arrival?"

"We were heading to Orlamün to get supplies. Our crops haven't produced much, and our stores are nearly emptied."

"Orlamün is quite a while away," he glanced over at her. "Why not Jütenz just a day or so south, or even Marzig?"

"Jütenz has sent word out to the neighboring villages a month ago, Lieutenant General," a soldier in the crowd spoke up. "Their additional stores have been emptied. Marzig and Orlamün are the only capable sources of purchase."

Berowalt turned his head to look at the man sharply for a moment before nodding in understanding. "I see. It seems my men cannot keep the chain of command well informed." he looked at Terra. "I apologize, m'lady. I would see to my mind's ease though, if you would understand?" he gestured for the soldier that had spoken. He hurried off his bird and approached on sure feet.

Terra held back a reply she knew would only anger the man. Perhaps if she were lucky they would believe them without further investigation. "Captain Köhler, please inspect the carriage." and then he gestured for another man. "Private, check their gardens and kitchen stores." Katrina passed Terra a horror struck glance. Terra knew she meant to beg for forgiveness, which would mean admitting to desertion on their charges. Who knew how that would be punished. She shook her head at the young mother sternly, when the men were not looking, and thankfully the woman kept to herself.

The captain opened the hatch to the back and climbed onto the step to inspect the cargo. A moment later he dropped out of the carriage to face his commander. "Ser, there's at least two month's worth of provisions in here for a large family. Capable of making the trip to Orlamün and back, at least."

"Well," Berowalt muttered, changing his eyes back to the little mayor. "Lady Brandford, would you care to explain this?"

"I am taking the children with me," she answered smoothly. "I can't leave them here any longer, especially not without food or a sense of security." his eyes narrowed at that. "The Thamasan warship is only the beginning ser. You must understand I have to think of my children."

"You were ordered to stay and provide for the army, were you not?"

"And I will," she said. "My children do not have to be. They are not of age to be held to such contracts, nor to be of any use. I was going to leave them at Orlamün with Katrina until things recovered here in Mobliz. Duane and I were going to see to the farming. It would be less mouths to feed, and more harvest for the army."

He could not argue with that, it was clear. On any other occasion he would have approved of the action, but Terra could see he still did not believe her. The captain went back to his bird but did not retake his mount, as his commander issued him to stay afoot and await further orders. A moment later, over the quiet sniffling of Cara and Ella, the private ran out of the house.

"There is much left in the cabinets ser, but not enough for the size of their family." That aligned with her tale. She hoped he would believe her now and that Duane and Wil were smart enough to stay far out of sight. They did not know the tale she had spun and would only break the fragile ground she had gained.

Berowalt exhaled sharply and then nodded to the private briskly. He took Terra's hand and kissed the knuckles gently. "My apologies then, Lady Branford, but you have to understand my caution. It gladdens my heart I was wrong." he released her hand and stood straight. "Since your destination aligns with our own, we shall accompany you. We would take some percentage of the supplies of course, since you will make the trip faster than you would have without us."

Terra clenched her fists. Their food. Their plan. It was all useless now. They would lose more going to Orlamün now. She didn't have the coin to really make much of any purchases, let alone enough to get them very far back to Mobliz or to Albrook, if she still felt like going. "Oh, no ser, I appreciate the offer but we can make the trip ourselves."

"We would take a portion regardless," he said strictly. Katrina gasped and looked at Terra pleadingly.

She knew she had to try too, even without Katrina's silent plea. "Please ser...it is difficult enough to live, would you really make it even more difficult? Our journey is uncertain, you know the roads, so we could use the extra provisions. Please." Berowalt stared at her for a moment, brows furrowed, before he shook his head.

"If life here is too difficult for you, perhaps you would consider leaving with the army entirely. We could place you someplace where you could sustain your own family's health as well as still provide for the army. Somewhere near Tzen, perhaps?"

Hope filled her heart. Getting close to either Tzen or Albrook was the objective, so did it matter how they got there? Katrina seemed to like the idea as well, as it allowed them to move as a family safely. "Thank you Berowalt, that would be—"

"Lieutenant General, look!" he turned away from Terra to face the guard who was rude enough to interrupt a lady. It was a man at the back, half standing off his chocobo and pointing back towards the house. Berowalt went to see what the commotion was about. Terra desperately sought out the source of it as well and stared in horror at Wilhelm standing at the open door of the house with an old sword in his hand.

She mouthed for him to go back into the house but his young face was contorted in rage. Berowalt moved Terra aside gently, speaking over the cry of Katrina to ' _leave him be_ ', and said, "What is it you hope to do with that, boy?"

He lifted it up, struggling. "You...you leave here now! This is _our_ house! _Our_ food! If you want food grow it yourself!"

"Wilhelm, quiet!" Terra barked, lifting the ends of her skirt to hurry in front of the general. "Please, forgive him, he's—"

"He is a young man without respect," he cut in sharply. "It shan't be tolerated."

"Why should I respect you?! You're nothing but a thug!"

Terra shouted, "Wil! Be quiet now!"

"No!" he shouted back, glaring. "Just because you are afraid of them doesn't mean I have to be!" he lifted the sword higher, pointing it directly at the general. "Leave or...or I will fight you!"

Berowalt laughed and threw aside his cloak, revealing a mighty sword. "If this is what you desire boy, I shall teach you the result of your disrespect." he unsheathed his sword, smiling when the boy trembled. Terra stood before him again, arms stretched out.

"Please, he is just a child! Forgive him!"

"He is a child no longer," he snapped. "Captain, move Lady Branford aside and keep her with the others." the captain did as instructed, holding Terra back by compressing her arms around her chest. She was kicking and screaming and it took another soldier to hold Katrina back, for she tried to free Terra. The children all started crying and screaming in fear and confusion, which unsettled only the boy and under ranking soldiers.

"Leave him alone!" Terra cried, tears rushing down her face. "Let my baby alone!"

"Run Wilhelm, run!" Katrina begged. "Run!" but the boy stood his ground, even when the general was within fighting distance.

"You do your governess and myself a great dishonor by raising that sword and tongue of yours," Berowalt said, taking an elegant pose. "Shall we begin or would you prefer I wait as you find a branch?" the jest made the soldiers burst out into laughter, except the good captain who held the crying woman who had taken the children in. The boy's answer was to charge and swing blindly.

The sword was too heavy for him though and it rushed in a downward arch, catching in hard ground and lumps of grass. The general effortlessly dodged each and every swipe, jab and slash, smirking the entire time yet silent as a mouse. It was clear to any who watched, even those untrained in the art of swordplay, that Berowalt was playing with his opponent. Some gentlemen who practiced the art might have called it a dishonor to the art itself, but none of the soldiers seemed to share that sentiment.

Terra struggled at the arms that held her. She knew that if she didn't stop this man her son would die. She dug her boots into the soil, pushed back and then smashed the back of her head against the captain's exposed face. The man swore and fell back into the carriage even as the woman charged through the children and laughing soldiers to confront the fight.

When she broke through she saw Berowalt smashing his strength against the boy's sword, causing him to stumble and shake from the balance shifts. Fury filled her. She glanced at the soldier beside her, ripped the sword out of his sheath—the man had no time to react!—and ran into the fray. If it came down to it, she would fight for her children's safety and freedom from the very threat to it. It was clear that after this they would all be put to the gallows or enlisted into the army or forced into servitude in some fort. She would not have her daughters shipped off to be a wench to some soldier nor think of her sons fighting their wars.

Wilhelm lifted his sword, panting, to block another take. The force of it knocked the weapon out of his hands and before he could so much as reach for it, Berowalt kicked the boy in the chest and sent him to his back. He gave a sharp cry before settling still as the point of the general's sword touched the hallow of his neck.

"Hmm, perhaps a few years of practice would have seen you a decent match for my newest recruits," he muttered. "however here you lay, as untrained as you are disrespectful."

"Get away from him!"

Berowalt turned his head, sword still pressed to the boy's throat, to see Terra standing in a perfect pose with a stolen sword. He smiled. "Are you challenging me, m'lady?" the men laughed, unaware of her prestigious training in the Empire.

"I said get away from him!" she said again. " _Now_!"

He released his sword from the boy's throat and leaned down to take the sword. He tossed it a good distance away and then said, directing the boy behind him, "Your governess has saved you for the moment boy, best you not waste it by being foolish." he got up to his feet, confused, before hurrying to his mother's side. "I hope that you should bring me to defeat where your foolish foster son failed or the outcome will be one you will not like, Lady Branford."

"You have forced my hand," she said, tears in her eyes.

He acknowledged her tears with a moment of silence and then nodded. "So I have. I hate to bring such discomforts to a lady such as yourself, so I shall give you mercy at the end of our challenge." he went into the strike without hesitation, though when Terra deflected his strike she could feel he was holding back. She replied to his assaults with a forgotten talent, swift and exercised despite the years of neglect. It surprised her opponent momentarily before the physical exchanges' severity increased. She met each and every one of his blows with her own, clashing or defending where needed, until the general took a few steps back, breath only slightly labored.

The soldiers were awed into silence. They never witnessed someone who could match their commander's skill, let alone from a woman. In this moment of reprieve Berowalt admitted his respect and surprise for her skill. "You have been trained well beyond most of my men, Lady Branford. It is astonishing, to say the least. I believe I know where you received that skill." her eyes widened just a bit. "Yes, I have seen that style hammered into the youth of the Empire."

She tightened her grasp on the sword and wished she had worn something other than her skirt for the restrictions it placed on her movements. "It doesn't matter where I trained."

"To me it matters," he said through a smile as he rushed back into the fight. It was a surprise move, one Terra was not prepared for, so when she rose her sword and tried to parry, the strength of the blow threw the sword out of her hands. She back stepped, to avoid any attack, but he was even faster. He slammed the pommel of his sword into her stomach, winding her, and then swept a leg under hers, sending her to her back in a quieted groan.

The children were screaming and sobbing, and Katrina was begging him to spare her, to spare Wilhelm. The boy who had started it was silent, watching the spectacle he had created with wide, teary eyes. The general stood over her, sheathed his sword and said, "As I have said I will show you mercy. It is not within my nature to harm a lady, especially one that once served the Empire. I cannot though, in good faith, allow this to go unpunished." he looked to the captain. "Round up the boys, especially him," he pointed to Wilhem and the soldiers were on him instantly.

Terra half rose. "Please, he is only a boy, he doesn't understand what he did! If you must, punish me instead!"

He looked at her from the corner of his eye. "The decision has been made, m'lady, and I will not alter it. I hope a term in the army will straighten out your older boys. The younger boys will undergo military preparation under existing generals. It will give them a good foundation for the later parts of their life, I'd say. And so that you, and the army, will not suffer due to the shortage of workers, I shall send a group of able women here to help you tend your fields."

 _The army! He means to put them into training?_ She got to her feet. "I won't let you!"

"I daresay there is nothing you can do," he started to walk away, aware that she was on her feet, defying him. "Stay and be a governess to the girls you have here. After all, girls need proper guidance in life as the boys do, of which only a woman can provide them." she took a step towards him. "Please do not do anything stupid, as I would hate to intervene any harsher than I'd like to or already have." that made her back down. Her boys were now in the custody of his men. Any mishap meant their lives, or the lives of the girls he was so kind enough to leave behind.

Katrina was clutching the youngest boy, Reinhard, to her bosom, desperately trying to keep him from the hands of the captain. Terra cried out, "They are my children!"

He faced her for a second. "No, m'lady, they are not _your_ children. You would do well to find yourself a husband who could give you _real_ children, children who could actually possess respect." he was near Wilhelm now, whom he grabbed by the shoulder to shake sternly like he was some long known and loved uncle, to emphasize his point. The young boy shrugged away, hands cuffed behind him. "See? Even now he refuses to respect his elders and superiors."

"I will give you anything," she said, pleading. "I will farm. I will give you my land. I will even join your army...just please don't do this to my boys." he was still in consideration of her plea, but shook his head.

"It is done. You may say your farewells before we are off."

"Mama!" Reinhard cried, reaching out from the arms of a soldier who had forced the other boys into one of the carriages. "Mama!" Terra hurried by the general towards the boy. When she approached the soldiers tried to hold her back, but Berowalt waved them aside. Terra took the boy into a tight hug, crying alongside the poor boy. "Mama I don wanna go."

"I don't want you to go either, my little prince," she whispered, pressing him close to her, smoothing down his wild red-brown hair. "We will be together again, I promise." one of the soldiers growled that it was enough and tore him from her arms, swearing over the kicking and screaming the boy gave, and then practically tossed him into the back.

Wilhelm was hurried off to a different carriage, so Terra was unable to say goodbye, to quell whatever fears and guilt he possessed. Cole and Otis cried and cried when she hugged them and refused to let go. It was difficult for her too, and if the soldiers hadn't separated them, she was sure she wouldn't have let go. Ecbert was confused. He didn't know what was going on, but he said his goodbyes sniffling, and refused to let go of Katrina until she soothed him (to avoid the anger of the soldiers). Edsel and Johann were much easier to say goodbye too, not because she would miss them any less, but because they were strong for her. Even though they cried, they said their goodbyes to her and Katrina before being hauled away, as if they were nothing more than cargo. It was much harder for Eloise, who begged and begged for them to release her brother. Being a girl of ten meant she was no longer a child in their eyes, so the soldier shoved her to her bum harshly and threw her brother into the back with the others.

The general stood observing the entire thing with his arms crossed behind his back and a calm expression on his face. A soldier fetched his bird and prepared it for travel as the men tore through their carriage for their 'share' of the supplies. They left less than half of the food, but all the kegs of water. When it was through and the women were left stranded by their nearly empty carriage and ripped away from their siblings and sons, the general took his leave last. He passed one look at them before riding off in a quick gallop.

Terra collapsed to her knees in sobs. Katrina knelt to envelope the woman in her arms and together they cried. The girls too cried, holding onto their mama in unexplainable grief and confusion.

When Duane finally came back, rolling the heavy wheels together (for he had spent time tying them together to make moving them easy), the soldiers were utterly out of sight. The damage they had made was left though, and the moment he saw the women knelt with the girls, he let the wheels drop to the ground in fear. He glanced about as he slowly neared them. He could not see the boys.

"Terra? Katrina?" he asked, and only his wife looked up at him, tears streaming down his face. "Where...where are the boys?"

The woman shook her head and leaned it against Terra's shoulders, letting her sobs answer the man. His eyes widened. "No..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you noticed the names and thought "huh? German?", yes, I wanted to base the Mobliz area on the Germanic people. If you look at the (pre-iOS) release of the game in the WoR, the boys are dressed in what looks like lederhosens and the girls look like they are wearing dirndl (especially in the iOS version). Why, even some of the names give the impression Mobliz is supposed to be (or at least influenced) by Germany and its history, such as Katrina's name, the clothing and the name of the town itself (though to be fair I guess you could say that name is capable of many other languages).
> 
> Well, anyway, I do hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! The next one is almost complete so it should appear pretty soon. Thank you for reading! I look forward to any and all input! :)
> 
> EDIT
> 
> My collaborator has decided to take some time away from the project for personal advancements in life, so I will be taking over the Continuum fanfiction entirely now. I wish you good luck in life Alba! YOU ROCK!


	5. Tzen

Chapter V:  
Tzen

The full expanse of Tzen first fell upon their view in a fortnight's time, basked under the silver light of the moon. By late morning, they had arrived at the gate just outside hills that ran like wine under the wind during summer. Since the years beyond the fall of the Empire and that of inarguable insane dictator that came after, the village had turned into a bustling city where people came hoping for change—for a chance at a larger and greater life than they had. The increase in population forced the people to expand further toward the sea and inland until buildings soon became towers and the palisade into near indomitably walls of stone and turrets.

The main gate into the city was kept shut with a wall of iron, which was only reachable over a man made trench inhabited by poisonous creatures and sharpened stakes. This gate was placed strategically at the summit of a hill, so that the land that rolled before them was easily seen, and against the water front to the west, so that enemy ships could be spotted and set ablaze or blown to pieces.

Outside the walls farmers tended fields under the super vision of city police and domesticated beasts of the wilds. A company of about a dozen kept a short and protective watch on the main gate as workers fixed rusted joints in the gate or broken boards on the draw bridge. The caravan that pulled to a stop at the foot of the bridge was soon encircled by the company.

"State your business," one of the soldiers said, until his eyes graced over the face of their Lieutenant General. "My apologies for the interruption, ser. The city commander asked us to inspect all caravans thoroughly."

Berowalt said, "No matter, captain. You were doing your job and I won't fault you for it. Is the main gate serviceable for entry?"

"Yes ser, we're just doing patchwork today." the soldier stepped away from the carriages and motioned to someone atop the walls by the gate. "Welcome back ser, and I pray your travels were met without difficulty."

"It went as to be expected," he simply answered before the carriages started over the wide bridge and through the arch of the gate. One by one the carriages filed into the wide streets of Tzen, cutting through dense crowds that were more than eager to part for them. Banners of the Rose Wards fluttered across roof tops and hung from store fronts as a constant reminder of who was in charge and who had spared the people from their days of famine and fear. "Beautiful what we can achieve together, isn't it captain Köhler?"

The young soldier beside him followed the line of sight and said, "It is, ser..."

"I hear more on your tongue, captain, yet you do not speak it."

"Forgive me, I just..." they went through a narrow street then, where people hung over terraces to watch them pass. "...I sometimes find our objective forgotten in a sea of confusion. It seems lately we only ever concentrate on expanding our reach rather than fulfilling the objectives we set out to do."

"Our goal is only achievable if we can unite the people, captain," Berowalt explained. "We cannot unite these people," he gestured to the folk around them. "without expanding our reach. If we had other options, options that would benefit our objective without waste, we would take it."

"I understand, ser, it was a moment's weakness that drove me, I'm ashamed to admit."

"An inquisitive mind that seeks justification in action should not be something to be ashamed of, captain." the man said softly.

 _Or so we're told._ The captain looked up at the faces peering down at them one last time before focusing on the cobblestone road before them. As they galloped through the narrow streets and into the wide and open center of Tzen, the city bells chimed in welcome. The carriages drew to a stop in a half circle at the foot of the Rose Ward's official Tzen headquarters. A bronze statue of the Rose Ward General sat at the top of the stairs over the view of the city, encircled by a rich garden.

Berowalt stepped off the carriage and onto the cobblestone with a deep intake of air, as if savoring the city's smells and tastes after a decade long absence. A round of soldiers jogged by in morning routine while the captain hurried off and to his ranking officer's side. "Ser, what would you like me to do with the boys from Mobliz?"

"Take them to the barracks."

"All of them, ser?"

"Take the youngest two to Dolkova as wards. They're young enough to be easily impressed and I should like it that they are impressed with the right image."

"I will get right on it." captain Köhler hurried to the back of the carriages to instruct the men. One by one the boys from the poor farmer village were filed out of the carriage. Berowalt noticed the last to be taken was Wilhelm, the lad who had raised a sword to him, and walked over calmly.

"Wait captain, I should have a moment with the lad." the captain released the boy's arm, who quickly turned on his heel to glare at the Lt Gen. "You have fire in your eyes, boy, but I'm afraid it will get you no where with me. You will come to respect your superiors and elders and your vocation within the grand Rose Army one day. Perhaps when you have finally become a man."

"I'll never become a thug like you," the boy snapped.

This time the patient eyes of the Lt Gen narrowed. "You use words as if they hold more weight to them than they actually do. What you mutter into the air means naught in reality."

"You are what you are! Everyone knows it!"

"Truth by consensus means little to me." Berowalt said. "Your citations are built off of confirmation bias, making your accusations entirely questionable. However, the truth has always been so much harder to gain than a lie, so this reaction of yours and so many others leaves little to be surprised by."

"You can speak fancy all you want," the boy tried to break free of his chains. "but it is the truth. You came to my village and you stole from us with the threat of violence, of punishment, if we didn't give you our food and supplies. If you are not a thug, you are something still despicable."

The Lt Gen stood quiet for a moment, eyes locked onto the youthful fire that was Wilhelm's anger, and then he smiled. "Perhaps some time later we can pick up our discussion, but for now I have important business to deal with." he looked at Köhler. "Captain, take him away please and be sure all of them are properly nourished before all else." he waved his hand then and the group of soldiers and boys were dispersed immediately.

With that taken care of, he turned and made his way up the stairs. The doors to the building were opened for him immediately and shut quickly after him for defensive purposes. The soldiers at guard sent him onward with salutes until he disappeared around the corner of the main hall and into the offices of army's foreign affairs. A scrawny fellow, half way out the door of life, was busy reading through a command list from ranking officers when he approached.

"Stegwalt," he simply said, stopping a foot or so from the old man's desk. He crossed his arms behind him and looked around at the new boxes of letters and documents scattered about the room. "It seems you have been busy."

"I am always busy," the man replied shortly, tossing the paper he had into the flames of the fireplace behind him. "You and your foolish commander make sure of that lately."

He smiled fondly. "I think we both know you enjoy the service given to you."

"Aye, I do, I do," he grumbled. "I suppose you are here under Böhm's command, yes?"

"I received word while I was in the Baxony region that Tzen received a missive from Figaro?"

"Ah yes, _that_...let me see, where did I store it?" the old man started to dig through his vast towers of documents and letters. "It arrived a few fortnights ago and is set with conditions."

"Conditions of what?"

"Here it is." he handed over the paper.

Berowalt pressed the paper open and read quietly to himself for a moment. "The man requests a Summit and has the audacity to set conditions at the same time?" he chuckled. "Where is Böhm now?"

"In his office. He said to point you to him as soon as you have returned and read the missive."

"Thank you Stegwalt, I shall be on my way now." he bowed his head and then made his way to the third floor, where senior officers in the army were stationed. The general's room was of course the largest and most dominating room of them all, stationed in just the right place so that the walls of glass could oversee the entire city and its horizon. Any furniture that was in the room was placed in the center of the room, a perfect three feet away from the windowed walls, and made of ironwood and iron. Leather sofas, oak tables, fine tableware and the like made up the minor parts of decorations and furniture.

Sitting at the head table, over map of the region, was the general himself—Adalgar Böhm. He possessed a head of rich red hair he had braided down his back and a medium plate of armor over a studded gambeson. Pale blue eyes, fierce and intelligent, were overshadowed by thick brows and a long, old scar down his left temple. In Berowalt's years of thirty-five, he had never met a man as intimidating, cunning and honorable as Adalgar, and believed he would not ever meet such a man again.

"Böhm, you requested me?"

The general lifted his eyes from the map. "Berowalt, there you are. I feared you fell across some trouble on the road given the lateness of your arrival. Did all go well in Baxony?"

"There is reason for that." he strode across the room to stand a respectable distance from his leader. "We were moving through the Baxony region when Thamasan warships sailed up the eastern coast and attacked our fort at the Brüxin archipelago. We went further north to assess the damages, which took two days from our journey."

"I see. I trust that your main objective was not disrupted, then?" Berowalt nodded and then Böhm folded the map close and asked, "Have you read the missive from Figaro yet, my friend?"

"I have."

"What do you make of it?"

"I find it insulting," Berowalt answered. "He is in no position to make requests, let alone requests he enforces conditions upon, yet he does so. He is a prideful fool."

"No," Böhm said, standing and turning to the windows behind him, to observe the flow of the city. "The king of Figaro is no fool and he is not one to let pride dictate his hand. He knows that we do not want a war with Figaro as much as he does not want a war with us. It is painfully clear that neither of us can truly afford it either, not with life nor gil."

"So what do you make of it then, ser?"

"I suspect there is more to this summit than he wants us to know...what though, I cannot be sure."

"Should we accept it or refuse him?"

He sighed. "If we are to appear reasonable to the people, willing to negotiate in order to save lives, it will benefit us. If we can do this by making Figaro and Edgar look uncompromising and cruel, all the better. For that we must play his game but we must do so carefully."

"I will have a bird sent out immediately then." he waited a moment, respectfully, before he asked, "Is there anything else you require of me, ser?"

Without looking up from the map, he said, "I saw the men leading a bunch of children into the barracks when you arrived." now he looked up. "Where did you pick them up from? We haven't the coin and food to house street urchins, as sad as that is."

"I picked them up at Mobliz, ser, under Article Twelve."

Adalgar smiled just a bit. "They resisted you? All of them, even the babes?"

"No ser, but I had reason to suspect their governess was meaning to flee from military order with the boys so I did as I thought was best. That's when the oldest tried to attack me. He has gumption, if anything, so I thought it would be best used in service to our cause."

Böhm took a moment to recall who was stationed at Mobliz and then clicked his tongue in mild amusement. "I suspect the governess wasn't too pleased about this," he muttered, leaning away from the table and map. "Well, they are here now, I suppose. Make sure the oldest of the lot gets initiated swiftly."

"It has already been taken care of, ser."

"I forget you are a man of action, Berowalt," he said, pleased. "Good. If that is all, have Stegwalt issue the acceptance and head down to the barracks. The Colonel is awaiting you."

Putting aside the fact that his commader did not wish to wait some time before sending in the acceptance letter, he frowned at the much more concerning issue."Sauer, ser?" Berowalt asked, startled. "I thought you sent him to the Solitary Islands, to oversee the construction?"

"I had him appoint Hans in his place so that he could come back to Tzen."

"For what purpose?"

"You will be heading to Nikeah in my stead for the summit. I will return to Albrook to oversee something that requires my attention. I would have sent Sauer, but the man is unpredictable, you know this, and would easily fan the flames of war if it meant seceding from the crown. He is a good warrior, loyal even, but nothing more than that. I won't put my trust, and the future of our objective, in his hands. You, on the other hand, are far more diplomatic."

"I understand," he saluted quickly. "If that is all, I shall take my leave." the general waved a hand to him, dismissing him, and the Lt. Gen turned on heel and left.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

"I thought I was clear the first time: don't let that thing on my airship without my consent." Setzer said, hurrying out the confused yeti and the moogle that sat on his shoulders. The yeti had utterly ruined the kitchen and was planning to horribly redecorate the main quarters of the ship had it not been for Setzer returning in time to stop it.

"I had it under control," Mog snapped, fluttering his wings as he turned on the giant's shoulders to face the pilot. "If you hadn't shouted at him, he wouldn't have panicked and destroyed your shelves."

"No, little puffball—" that caused Mog to growl. "—if you had respected my decisions and not brought that hulking behemoth on my ship my shelves would currently not be in shambles on my floor. Now get that thing out of here."

"Fly man mad Umaro?" the yeti mumbled to his tiny friend and the moogle patted his head softly.

"Ignore him," Mog instructed him as the yeti descended the flight of stairs to the landing platform. Setzer scrawled at them before closing the ship after himself. As the two left Locke and Celes arrived and seeing the terrible mood the yeti was in, Celes pressed him on what happened.

"What do you think happened?" he said, standing and tossing a wrench into a toolbox at his feet. "That damnable yeti destroyed my kitchen! I thought you were keeping him in the cellars or something?"

Locke crossed his arms. "Why would we punish him like that? He doesn't know any better."

"I would hardly call _that_ a punishment for the brute," he grumbled. "And what do you two even want with me? I'm busy enough as it is." he picked the toolbox up and started toward the hull of his airship, which was suspended off the ground by two iron claws.

Celes glanced about the ongoing new modifications. The hull had been stripped a day or so ago and was in the process of being replaced with a higher quality material that was unusually light in weight. "We are just checking on your progress."

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I not going fast enough for you?" he asked as he crawled under the hull of his ship to reach inside of it. Locke rolled his eyes. "Otherwise let's see you two retrofit a small airship into a military aircraft in a deadline of two weeks—while a yeti destroys the inside!"

Celes was not amused with his sarcasm and did not react as he was hoping. "If it will calm you down, we will assist you."

He stopped working to glare back at her. "I don't need the klutz over there," he pointed his wrench at Locke, who pinked. "anywhere near my airship and I'm sorry Celes, but there isn't much you can do either."

"I will see if Edgar has time to come down and help you then."

"No!" he shouted, standing quickly and smashing his head into the new hull. He swore and knelt back down. "I don't need his help either. Let him concentrate on his summit speech and whatever else he is doing."

"So be it," Celes said coolly before turning and leaving. It was clear she was not pleased with the pilot's childish and stubborn nature. Locke walked over to scoot the toolbox closer to Setzer when he blindly reached for it with his head stuck inside of the exposed hull.

"It is beginning to bug me, you know," Locke muttered.

"And what is that, Locke?"

"How easily the Rose Wards accepted the summit, let alone the conditions we set. They didn't even try to argue some of them down..."

"I suppose they're more desperate than we are," Setzer answered, voice heavily muffled. "Or they will soon have a king's head to decorate their wall."

"Ha ha ha," Locke growled, leaning against the ship. "Edgar has to understand that the Rose Wards aren't just going to surrender or give up, right? He has to and if he does, what exactly is he planning?"

"And if he doesn't, I suppose he's lost that precious intelligence of his," the pilot replied sourly, crawling out from under the ship at last to retrieve a long strip of iron.

"This is serious," Locke told him sternly. "Why are you acting so strange?"

"I know that it is, Locke," he took another bar of iron. "I think I understand it more than the rest of you. I've been to Rose Ward territory. I've seen the wrong _and_ the good they have done, that includes deported families or tortured 'prisoners' of war to Rose Ward soldiers caring for villagers more than I can properly describe."

"And how is that going to tell me what your problem is?"

"That's just it Locke, I don't have a problem." he crawled back under the ship.

"Taller tales have been told, I guess," Locke said through a small smile, knowing just how to prickle the man into answers.

"Don't you have a cave to prowl about or a pocket to pilfer from Locke? I'm trying to concentrate here."

"Whatever. Whenever you're done here for the day, head to the throne room. Ed needs us for something." he pushed away from the airship and left the aerodome without another word. Setzer mumbled under his breath about the noisy bastard before pushing himself further into his work.

When Setzer was finished with the other side of the hull and completely exhausted, he stored his tools away, made doubly sure the ship was locked so the yeti couldn't get back in and then made his way through the halls toward the throne room. There were soldiers outside of the hall leading to the throne room which he suspected was to keep others out. That either meant something had happened to now worry the king or they were about to discuss something highly secretive.

 _Let it be simple to deal with_ , he thought, walking by the soldiers and pushing the doors open. Edgar was leaning into the back of his throne, eyes following his brother as he paced a line in front of him while he ranted over the idiocy involved in the plan—yet again. Locke was leaning against the wall to the far right, chewing at a ripe apple. Celes was, of course, preoccupied in the actual business of their plan. She had a few missives in hand and was quickly glancing over the most recent maps in possession.

"I'm just hoping you will listen to me on this one part, at the very least!" Sabin said, exasperated. "You don't even think it is suspicious they accepted so easily!"

"I don't recall saying that—"

Sabin continued on over his brother hotly. "And you won't even consider postponing the summit until—"

"Sabin," Edgar said, standing. He adjusted the neck of his doublet quickly, very much annoyed. "I am not willing to discuss this with you for the hundredth time this month. I am too exhausted and there are better things to push my efforts onto than your worries, of which I have answered plenty of times." he descended the small stairs so that they were leveled and looking at each other. "I understand that you are only worried for me, I truly do, but I think you are forgetting that I am a king. I do not only have myself to worry about, but the whole of this kingdom. I can't very well stay hidden behind these walls every time something is too dangerous. A part of being a good king is facing that danger for the sake of the people he guides. After all, my dear brother, the people are what makes the kingdom, not the man with a crown on his head."

Sabin shook his head. "Fine." he turned and left the throne room with a frightening anger. Setzer waited until the doors closed before he cleared his throat.

"I suppose I wasn't called here to witness an opera act."

"There will be time for your jokes later, Setzer," Celes muttered, never taking her eyes off her papers.

Edgar took a seat beside his general and leaned over to take a paper out of the stack beside her. "You would be right though. I requested your audience for two things." he held the paper out. Setzer accepted it quickly. "As you just heard, our summit was accepted, conditions as well."

They had sent the letter out a month ago and while he would never voice it, Setzer agreed with Sabin that it was suspicious. He could not recall any other point in history that he was taught as a boy where a summit and its conditions were accepted without debate so quickly. It either meant the end of the war was near, or a step towards a more serious and bloody war. A war no side could afford.

"So I see," he muttered, handing it back. "You want to know how far along I am, don't you?"

"Yes," he admitted, cupping his hands. "If our plan is to succeed, certain pawns of ours must leave rather soon."

"I'm standing right here, Ed," Locke snapped. Setzer reached for a mug on the table full of untouched wine and sipped at it. "He's right though. It might be a bit suspicious for me to show up at exactly the same date as the summit, but I can't leave ahead of them if the airship isn't even near completion."

"I just need to redress the hull." he gulped the rest of the wine down and sat the glass back down. "I could have her finished by tomorrow night if I work throughout the night."

"That is good to hear, as the sooner we can leave, the better, but I do not want you to push yourself too hard Setzer." Edgar stood. "Is the airship capable of flight right now at the very least?"

"She's serviceable," he muttered. "Though it isn't appealing for me to fly her naked."

"A lady should be treated right, after all," Locke teased, which caused the pilot to glare.

Edgar looked across the room at the thief. "Locke, then I think it is time you set out for Dömitz."

"I'll get some supplies together and meet you at the airship." Locke walked over to Celes, kissed her on the cheek, said goodbye and left them to the rest of their discussion. Edgar let out a long, winded sigh, revealing just how exhausted he really was.

Celes glanced up at him, brows slightly raised. "You are right to worry and to treat this so seriously Edgar, but you need rest."

"I'll rest when it is appropriate," he muttered.

"A dead man can't serve his country," Setzer pointed out. "What more could you do right now anyway? I'll be dropping the thief off and then going straight to work. Your brother is occupied with the townsfolk and Celes here has plenty to do concerning your army and summit. There's clearly time for _you_ to rest."

He considered it for a moment and then sighed. "Fine, fine...you will alert me if anything happens, or changes?" they both nodded. He reluctantly said a short goodbye and left the room. When the two were alone, Setzer shook his head.

"This all better work out or we're all looking to a spot on the gallows, either by civilians or Rose Ward soldiers."

"In the time of war, one must keep a cool head," she said coldly, clearly not very worried. "Things will work out if everyone does their part without failure." he stared at her for a moment, having forgot just how she was raised and how living a life like that must have been horrible. Although he knew she couldn't see, he shook his head at her, pitifully. The lives she and Terra must have lived...

"Then I suppose I should be off as well." at the door, he looked back at her. "And Celes...do try to remember your own advice and get some rest." as the door closed, she dug through a new pile of papers, clearly unwilling to leave until her job was finished.

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

"You can't just go after them!"

It was what she had been hearing for the last month, over and over again, but how could she not go after her boys? What were her other choices? She refused to accept that leaving it be, that forgetting about her boys and labeling it a lost cause, was her _only_ choice. There were always other options, some harder than others, but there regardless.

"You still have others to worry about!"

How could a mother abandon some of her children? Is that what Duane wanted her to do? Is that what any other mother would do in her position? Could they face a future like the one she was imagining? The nights of wondering, of shame, fear and grief? Did it even matter if they could and she couldn't?

It took three days after the boys were taken for Duane to absolutely forbid her from attempting to rescue them, and only a moment for their relationship to be damaged. She could not understand how he could easily forget the boys and it seemed he couldn't understand how she could not live without _all_ of her children. It took the intervention of Katrina to stop their arguing and to mend whatever fragile friendship left between them by asking Terra to wait for a fortnight in order to think on it.

It was nearing the end of that date and so far Terra did not feel a change in her heart. She would rescue her boys or die trying. The problem was how though. Katrina was willing to accept her decision, but she pressed Terra on figuring out the 'how' first. Of course Terra would not have just charged down to Tzen without a plan, but the extra calm voice the young mother provided was incentive to thoroughly plan ahead. To the smallest detail.

At the moment she stood at the kitchen windows, watching the morning sky in deep thought. The plans she had created were too shallow for her to act upon and were promptly discarded not long into their creation. She needed a safer way into Tzen, first of all, and needed a way to keep her daughters and loved ones out of reach of the Rose Wards during and after her little mission. That was the most important step. She at first thought of having them travel south, to live in the scattered villages south of Albrook where no one would know them, but knew that Berowalt or others would just be sent to look for them. Her next idea was to have them live in the mountains surrounding the abandoned magical towers that was once home to cultists for Kefka, but knew the dangers were too high to send children and untrained adults.

 _What do I do?_ she thought as bluish-gray clouds covered the sun. _What would Celes do? What would Edgar do?_ Those two always seemed to come up with the most ingenious plans during their adventures and if they didn't, they were the first to improvise and get them to safety or to their objective. She leaned her weight against the counters with a tired sigh. _If only they were all here..._

A commotion outside stole her attention and she wandered through to the front door. The girls rushed in quickly as soon as she opened the door, nearly tripping over each other. Little Cara was crying and Frida was shouting. "Calm down, calm down!" Terra shouted over the ruckus.

"What's going on?" Duane rushed out with his daughter in his hands. The girls were still panicking and Terra was not getting any answers. "Girls, girls! Please, calm down and answer your mother!"

"There's—there's someone headed this way!" Frida cried. Instantly Terra met Duane's eyes and he nodded, taking the girls' hands and dragging them out of sight as he shouted for his wife that someone arrived at the village. Terra felt around the pocket of her apron for the small knife she now carried and opened the door. Sure enough someone was slowing heading their way down the main, dusty road. Terra glanced over her shoulder to make sure the others were gone before going out to greet the stranger.

She waited for whoever it was at the outskirts of the village. When the image of a man appeared over the sandy knoll, basked in the fading sunlight behind him, she could only see the shape of him and tightened her grasp on her knife, deciding that if it were another Rose Ward soldier here for her children she would die protecting them. The moment he appeared out of the direct sunlight though, it was still unclear if he was no Rose Ward soldier. He was limped over the saddle of his chocobo, drenched in blood and barely conscious.

He lifted his head and locked eyes with her for a moment before passing out and sliding off his saddle. The chocobo reared at the strange weight and backed off as the man lay limp in the dirt. Unsure of what to do, Terra approached him slowly, knife now brandished. Up close, she could see that the man wasn't wearing a typical uniform of the Rose Wards, but instead was dressed in a rich blue doublet and trousers. A pin was fastened over his heart and an empty scabbard sat at his waist. It was clear he was a soldier of some sort, or perhaps a knight of _something_ , though Terra knew the latter was unlikely. The high seal of Doma was a golden flower and Figaro's heraldic emblem was a lion, but this man wore a harp pin made of silver.

She knelt carefully and hesitantly reached out to touch the man. He jerked enough to make her startled back with the dagger drawn, and then he settled again, though now he was conscious and staring at the sky as he drew painful breaths.

Terra stood quickly and took a step back. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" The man clutched at his chest and then felt around for the pin. He unfastened it and clutched it, as if it would bring him strength. "Answer me!"

"I am...Lor...oh... Moored."

Terra furrowed her brows at the stranger. She could hardly understand him. There was no way that was a name...or any that she heard of, at least. "What?"

He took a steady breath, "I am ser Lorcán Ó Mordha of Thamasa!" when the last word left him he settled into the dirt with a groan and Terra was beside him. A man from Thamsa! How did he cross the sea? How did he make it so far without interception by Rose Ward forces? She lifted his head and laid it on her lap and then pressed a hand tight against the wound on his shoulder. He chuckled. "My thanks...m'lady."

"Duane! Katrina! Hurry!" she shouted before looking down into the gentle blue eyes of the Thamasan man. The man squirmed and then cried out against the pain. Terra answered by applying more pressure to the wound, which only made him grimace. "Please, ser, you have to be still and quiet to keep your strength." she looked back at the house. "Katrina! Duane!" a moment later the two rushed out of the house carrying a broom and a kitchen knife in means of defense, but as soon as they saw the position she was in, they lowered their house hold weapons. "Katrina, prepare a bed with clean sheets and hot water. Duane, I need your help carrying him into the house."

"Terra, shouldn't we wait and—"

"Duane, please," her voice was short. "Just carry him...please." he sighed, tossed the knife and went over as his wife hurried back into the house to do as instructed of her. The man howled painfully at the awkward bending of his abdomen. Inside of the house, Katrina was waiting for them at the door to Terra's room. Clean sheets had been set and a basin of warm, clean water sat at the side of the table.

"I wasn't sure what else you might need..."

"This will do for now," Terra said, hurrying over to rip some of the sheets into lengthy strips. Duane laid the man down near the edge of the bed and went to close the door when he heard the girls behind them.

"Go to your rooms girls and stay there until we come get you. Go now, go." they hurried away in hushed whispers and Duane turned to Terra. "Who is this man? Why are we helping him?"

"I don't know," she admitted, going to the man's side to remove his doublet and under shirt.

"You don't know who he is and you brought him into our home? What if he is from Tzen?"

"Please...I—I mean you folk no harm." the man managed to say, wincing against the pressure of Terra's hands when she pressed down on his wound with clean rags.

"He came from Thamasa," Terra said and that seemed enough to quiet the two worried parents. "Katrina, I'm going to need to sew the tissue and will need a pair of steady hands to help me. Would you mind...?"

"I—I...of course not." she glanced hesitantly at her husband before jumping to Terra's aide.

Duane looked at the stranger's eyes for a moment before shaking his head, not very convinced the man could be trusted, and then left the women to their task without a word.

The women worked for half an hour before they felt there was nothing else they could do, and then let the man rest. Katrina was trembling and pale, clearly in shock, so Terra took her hands and tried to calm her. "Katrina, take a deep breath, please." the young mother did as instructed, but it didn't help much. "Everything is alright. He isn't from Tzen."

"Unless he's lying," she whispered.

"He's not," Terra said again, firmer. "And if he were, he's in no shape to cause us any trouble." that seemed enough to calm the woman. "I will keep an eye on him, if it will ease your heart, until we can question him. Why don't you check on the girls? They must be scared." though she was trying to distract the young mother from her own fears, she hoped that Katrina's presence would settle the girls too.

Alone, Terra went about tidying the room and disposing of the bloodied sheets and rags. When she was through, the young soldier from Thamasa slept more soundly. Even his flesh was regaining some lively color. She tipped a clean rag into some warm water and dabbed his head before retreating to an old rocker at the corner of the room. In her hand was her dagger. If this man proved untrustworthy, she would not let him catch her by surprise, not when she felt emotionally incapable of another loss.

When the sun left the sky, the door opened and Katrina came in with a tray of refreshments and a look of worry in her eyes, this time for Terra. She sat the tray beside her and sighed. "I don't think you should be in here alone with him, Terra. Maybe Duane should watch him?"

"He's injured, Katrina, would could he do to me?" she asked, accepting the glass of water that was offered.

"I'm just...not as sure as you," she admitted, sitting beside her nervously. They watched the man in silence together for a moment, until she sighed. "What do you think he's doing here?"

"I don't know," Terra answered. "but we will know soon enough."

Soon was not soon enough for them, especially Duane. The man slept more than any of them liked, and when he was awake it was short and not very informative as to who he was and what he was doing so far from Thamasa. Terra was sure he was not a threat, though the others found it harder to believe it when the first fortnight left them just as uninformed as the day he first appeared.

On the ninth day, in the late morning, Terra was busy checking his bandages. The injury was healing well and she was sure that soon enough he would be good as new. He was awake, watching her quietly as gentle fingers prodded his flesh. "You are a very vigilant healer, m'lady. I fear I would not be here if not for you."

She glanced up at him for a second before silently returning to her work. He seemed to understand without words that she was not keen to talk to him in the friendly manner in which he gave. When she was through inspecting the wound, she reached for a jar of clearish blue liquid and then dripped some of it onto the injury. Lorcán flinched at the pain and then cleared his throat, as if it would help hold back a swear. "If I didn't know any better," he said, smiling up at her. "you are crossed with me, m'lady." Terra wrapped the wound with fresh bandages, ignoring him. "If I have offended you..."

Annoyed, she sat her things down and crossed her arms. "No, _ser_ ," she stressed that part. "You haven't offended me, but you have ignored my questions. Our questions. We are risking so much harboring you here from the Rose Wards and you would have us do so without knowing why?"

He let her anger and words linger in the small room for a while. She unfolded her arms, shook her head and went about cleaning up the discarded wraps. "You are justified in your anger, m'lady, I am—"

"My name is Terra," she said, for what she thought was the millionth time since he was able to talk.

He continued on as if she hadn't spoken. "I am sorry for any misfortune and fear I might have caused you and your family. I understand the risks of your actions, I do, and I will not let any harm come of you." he sat up with a slight grimace. "If you require knowing why I ended up here, it is a fair trade for the good you have done me m'l...Lady Terra."

She faced him, rolling a cleaning cloth around in her hands. "I would appreciate that, ser."

"I am here on behalf of Thamasa. You were right to assume I was aboard that sunken warship." he had apparently heard her talking in the hall with Duane and Katrina. "We were sailing north to find refugees and further aid for our growing resistance. We saw the Rose Ward's navy and foolishly thought we could set them back. We engaged them over forty miles south of Mobliz and chased them north. We thought we were winning, but we were being led into a trap. We had no idea they had built a fort along the eastern coast and we paid for it."

Terra had tightened her hands around the cloth, confused and worried. "How can you be a knight of Thamasa? They are not a proper kingdom. They had no knighthood."

"This is true," he said. "They did not, but they do now. My mother is from Thamasa, my father from Doma. My father taught me the ways of the Doman knighthood. Many others from Doma fled to Thamasa when the Empire first attacked. Many of those were knights or swordsmen. After the tyrant's fall, when the tower fell and no more light came, many of us felt like we needed a way to defend ourselves. I suppose I don't have the exact reasons why, it would be too hard to explain it. I feel like it...just happened some days."

So Thamasa's resistance was greater than she thought. She wondered then if Relm was okay, and if she had any role in the resistance. She felt a part of her hope that the girl did not, that she was safe and sound, far from trouble and risk. Though she knew that was helpless—Relm was a stubborn girl. She would never let someone or something like the Rose Wards take control of her home.

"...I believe I am the sole survivor of our warship," he said, breaking Terra out of her thoughts. "I was washed ashore further south and started to walk, in hopes of coming across other survivors. I found one of our chocobos further north along the coast, still chained to its cage. Once I freed it, I kept going and then...well I came upon your village and that's when I saw the girls. I hadn't meant to frighten them either."

Terra held his eyes, wondering on the truth of it all. She did not doubt that the ship she saw was Thamasa—she had seen enough of them—but she wasn't sure if the man was who he said he was and came from where he claimed he came from. She heard the tales of the Rose Wards plenty. They were known to hide among the common folk for all sorts of reasons, from weeding out traitors or rebels, to locating and ending secret stashes of supplies among the villages. This kind of thing was not far fetched.

He caught her hesitation easily. "You do not yet trust me." he said with a small smile. "That is understandable, m'lady. If it please you, I will set out in the morning. I must return to Thamasa and inform them of what happened here." unsure of what to say to him, with more questions in her head than before, she declined her head in a nod and left him to rest.

She found Duane and Katrina in the front yard watching the girls, who were helping to put up the freshly washed sheets and clothes. They weren't doing a very good job, but a few weeks ago they had all agreed to try and give the youngest kids responsibilities, and that meant sticking through their mishaps. Katrina hurried over to help though when the girls kept dropping the sheets in the dirt.

Duane glanced at her momentarily. "Is he awake?"

"He was when I left," she said quietly, coming to sit beside him on the wooden benches with a heavy sigh. "We spoke about his reasons for being here..." that caused the young man to sit down immediately and ask what about. "He told me he is a knight from Thamasa, and part of a growing resistance there."

"A knight from Thamasa?" he asked, confused. "Since when did they have knights?"

"Since the Rose Wards apparently," she answered, lifting her eyes up to watch her girls. "He says he will leave in the morning and return to Thamasa." However he planned to do that, he did not share, but Terra suspected a man like him would have his ways. And if he truly was a knight or in a resistance, surely there would be someone he could contact for help?

"It sounds hard to believe," he muttered. "but also encouraging...I do not think we can take any more of this war." Terra kept her mouth shut over a tart reply she very much wished to give and kept her eyes on her daughters and Katrina as they worked together to string up a large, white blanket. She knew just by his tone that he was thinking about leaving, about going as far as they could, just to be rid of the Rose Wards.

The thought of leaving her boys behind horrified Terra though, and although the deepest part of her knew that Duane was not suggesting that, it hurt as if he had. _I couldn't make that decision_ , she thought sadly.

"A shame we can't join him," he grumbled as he leaned back into the bench.

Terra suddenly looked at him. "What did you just say?"

"I said it's a shame we can't join him...why are you looking at me like that? Are you feeling okay?" Duane reached to touch her forehead but she shot up to her feet and hurried into the house. He shouted after her but she did not stop, not until she threw open the door to her room and caught the knight's attention. He was staring at her as if she were a beast ready to pulverize him.

"Are you unwell, m'ady?"

She asked, "What do you know about the Rose Wards?"

He stared at her funnily for a second. "I know more than I care to...where is this coming from, if I may ask?"

"I need to know!" she snapped. "Tell me everything you know!"

He frowned at her and sat up. "Why would a fine lady like you wish to sully your thoughts with what I know?" the look in her eyes told him that this was not something she was willing to be pressed on, so he sighed. "Ask what you will and I will answer to the fullest of my capabilities."

"Where would they take people who violated their laws?"

"Anywhere they had a fort, I suppose," he said. "There are, to my knowledge, three possible candidates. The port city of Delling to the south, Tzen and Nikeah."

"Can a civilian get inside any of the forts?"

"They could, but there are check points at every entrance now. Why are you asking me this?"

Terra closed her eyes as the thought of her boys brought bittersweet memories up. If they were her last, her days would be bleak. "They...they took my sons."

Lorcán's eyes widened with pity and understanding. "I am sorry. No mother should have to go through that dreadful feeling, but I'm afraid entry into any of those locations would be terribly impossible. Tzen and Nikeah have some of the highest security in all Rose Ward territories, and Delling is under new construction, so the area is off limits to everyone but staff and local civilians. You wouldn't even make it to the gates."

"I must," she insisted. "If you know anything that could help me, please tell me."

"I'm not sure that I do, m'lady," he admitted sadly. "What knowledge could I possess that could bring your sons back to you? I'm afraid sort of the commanding officer who took them relieving them of their punishment, they will remain under the authority of the Rose Wards."

"I am not asking them for permission," she said, eyes focusing on his. He must have realized what she meant, because his eyes lowered thoughtfully.

"I see." he was quiet for a moment. "Do you know what branch took your sons?"

Terra did not properly understand what he meant by that, but said, "The only thing that I know is that a man by the name of Berowalt Klein took them from me."

At the mention of that name, Lorcán sat up quickly. "Berowalt Klein?! Are you sure, m'ady? Are you sure that was his name?!"

Unsure of what caused him to become so excited, she hurried over to force him to lie back down before he reopened his stitches. "Please ser, you must lie back down or you will undo any recovery you might have found. Lie down, I said!" at her behest, he fell back into the pillows with a tired sigh.

"I'm sorry for my behavior, I just..." he took a deep breath. "Are you sure the man who took your sons was Berowalt Klein?"

"I am sure. He has been our regional commanding officer since they took control," she pulled the sheets back over him. "Why does he matter?"

Lorcán laughed, dryly, before he closed his eyes. "M'lady...that was the Lieutenant General of the Rose Wards. Second in command to an elusive man we have yet to see by the name of Adalgar Böhm. If Klein is so far south, or rather so far south-east, it must mean there is something important he must attend to. Far more important, and I hate to say this m'lady, than taking your sons in for new recruits."

"What are you saying?"

"I am saying, my dear woman, that Klein did not just happen upon your little village and decide to take your sons away from you. He came here for something greater than recruits, supplies or even their fort. He came here at the command of Böhm, though for what I do not yet know, but I am certain of it Your sons were just at the wrong place at the wrong time." he took a minute to think, and then added, "If you are serious about reclaiming your sons, then I believe I know where they might have been taken."

Terra looked at him, stern and resolved to her cause. "I will not let them have my sons."

He smiled. "A mother's love...it is the most beautiful thing in the world. Such resolve...devotion." he nodded. "Then you will have my support wherever I may possibly give it. The Rose Wards first set up within the city of Tzen and have since branched out. The boys will be there, for now at least. The oldest might be sent further south or west, to undergo training in one of many forts, but that should not be until they have undergone initial supervision and training. Klein will most likely be at Tzen though m'lady, and will know your face well."

"That will not stop me."

"I know," he laughed. "I suggest another route into the city though, as Tzen is the most heavily guarded city in the eastern hemisphere and storming to the gates will only result in your quick death or imprisonment."

"I will not stand idly by ser! They are my children—"

"I am aware," he cut her off quickly. "I am not suggesting you do not go. I know that would be foolish of me. What I am suggesting, Lady Terra, is that you do not go about it alone and so foolishly."

Terra looked away from him, sadden and afraid. She had no friends to turn to, no authority to request aide from. She was alone. "I wish that was an option ser, but there is no one I can turn to. I am the only one here who can offer my sons any help."

He smiled fondly at her. "Then let me help you reclaim your loved ones, Lady Terra."

She looked up at him, startled. "You would help me? You are injured though and...and a stranger."

"It would be a great honor and a privilege to help a kind-hearted soul such as yourself, m'lady."

There was not a lot about the world around her that Terra understood—she tried her hardest too—but there was one thing she learned early on when she woke in Narshe, and that was that people were selfish, whether or not they were kind people or wicked. She believed Lorcán truly wished to help her, she could see it in his eyes, but she knew deep inside her heart that there was more to it than helping a lonely, grieving mother find her sons. More that he would not tell her, not yet at least.

Whatever it was he wanted in exchange for that help though, she did not mind. She held a hand out to him with a small smile on her face. "I would appreciate your support, ser Lorcán." he accepted her hand.

"Then you will have my assistance."

⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a while in the waiting. Life gets so complicated sometimes...if only I had a magical stopwatch to pause time around me so I could work on my stories without worry. :( 
> 
> I will pour over it a few more times over the next few days to get a fresher look on it (the pauses help!) for errors, but this is it! I really hope you guys liked the chapter! I would be very much interested in knowing what you think, have to suggest or if you found any grammatical errors to point out to me that I have missed.
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)


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